Draco Malfoy's 101 Ways To Get a Girl
by panneler-san
Summary: Number Six: Pounce
1. Choose your Target

**Random idea. Bored to death. Nothing to do. Hence, fic.**

**I claim no ownage. I may not continue if nobody likes it…**

_#1 – Choose Your Target_

_Yes – this is the most important part of this entire guide. Follow the opening few chapters to the letter, dear readers. This guide will teach you the secret ways of woman – how to charm them, enchant, and baffle them. If you don't read this and decide to let fate play her hand, I assure you that you will NOT get the girl. I'm sure the Giant Squid is always open for a date._

_First of all, you have to follow this: Are you doing this for fun? Or do you really want her?_

_If you're doing it for fun, then I suggest you pick someone less-than pretty. Trust me, it can always come as quite a shock when you add an ugly girl, a famous hair and makeup stylist, sixty-three Galleons, and a little bit of your time. Merlin, it's fun._

_If you're serious, then I suppose that this girl is already really pretty. To you, I mean. Okay, so I've never been serious, but I've tried to be, so I'm perfectly qualified to write this Guide._

_Don't you dare think otherwise._

"So who?" I asked, my famous smirk on my face.

"Hm?" grunted Blaise, looking up from his eggs and toast.

"You told me yesterday that there was no way I could get any girl in the school to fall in love with me, so I'm asking you who. You choose, I'll deliver."

"You're such a perv, Draco." He sighed.

"Yeah, I suppose I am."

"Anyone?"

"Yes, just as long as it's not-"

"Granger," he cut me off, grinning. "I choose Granger."

I gulped. "I was about to say not her," I growled from behind my clenched teeth.

"Beat you to the punch, didn't I?" he asked, trying not to laugh. "You have until Christmas. If you can get her to fall for you before then, I'll give you ten Galleons and that silly book you're writing-"

"You stole it?" I asked, outraged. "I've been looking everywhere for that! Blaise, the men of Hogwarts need my womanizing wisdom! And you want me to go after Granger? Of all witches in this school, Granger?"

Blaise leaned back in his seat and shrugged. "You can finish that Guide of yours after you get your Galleons. Or are you not man enough to do it?"

I frowned. "Fine," I said bitterly, "But if I can get her to fall in love with me before Christmas, you have to do a strip dance in front of McGonagall to Baby Configroed a Hole through My Heart by the Weird Sisters."

He grinned again and held out his hand. As I shook it, he said, "We have a deal, Dragon."

"…Shut up, campfire."

**Super short. Sorry! Please review if you liked it.**

***bows* Panneler-san**


	2. What Is She?

**Me: I own Harry Potter!**

**JK: Oh, Panneler-san?**

**Me: Yes?**

**JK: ADVARDA KEDAVRA!**

**(I was not harmed in the making of this disclaimer)**

_#2 – What Is She?_

_If you ever find yourself in want of a girl, and have happened to be blessed enough to pick up this book, then there is something you need to decide right now:_

_ Are you a player?_

_ If you are, then read this chapter. If you're not, skip to chapter three, and I'll start you from there._

_ First off, now that you've chosen your target, you must evaluate her. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT approach this in a stalker way. Unless, through the course of your evaluation, you find that she is the type that blushes and giggles like mad whenever a guy looks at her. If that's the case, then you got it easy._

_ (Word of advice, don't go after those kinds. Been there, done that, trust me, it's horrid.)_

_ Evaluate in secret, and then decide if what you have observed is one of the following:_

_ Bashful? Outgoing? Ferocious? Loner? Or other?_

_ These are the types that I have most commonly seen throughout the course of my research. After you have done this, then you're ready for the next step._

"You're more of the loner-type, aren't you, Granger?" I asked, startling the girl considerably. She slipped and her rat's tail landed in her cauldron three steps too soon, turning the contents an odd orange color that reminded me of Weasley hair.

"What are you talking about now, Malfoy?" sighed the girl, grabbing her wand to try to correct the potion.

I grinned, thinking of those Galleons. "Just thinking, ever since it became common knowledge that you broke up with Weasley, you've withdrawn yourself, even from Potter's company. Now, why is that, exactly?"

Hermione's cheeks tinged a light pink as she averted my gaze. "Pass the Boomslang skin," she mumbled.

I did so immediately, earning a strange stare from her. I just smiled. "So why?" I asked again, causing her to jump slightly.

"Sod off, Malfoy," she replied angrily, and I blinked.

"Maybe you're the ferocious type?" I wondered out loud.

Hermione hissed infuriated, "Why are you talking to me?"

"We're potion partners," I replied, trying to look innocent. "Why can't I talk to you?"

"Because whenever your mouth opens, an insult comes out!" she retorted automatically. Oh, she had no idea how much I wished I could do that now. However, my mind flicked back to the promised gold and the book I still had yet to finish, and I rethought my strategy.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. Hermione froze. "I truly am."

The pink tinge in her cheeks quickly turned red. She looked down. "What's wrong with your head?" she muttered. "Did you hit it or something?"

I blinked again. In utter confusion, I thought to myself, Is she the bashful-type? Merlin, how many personalities could she have?

I sighed and returned to cutting up roots. This was going to be a long few months.


	3. For Serious Boys

**No Ownage Claimed. All belongs to the good, great, and wonderful JK. Read on.**

_#3 For Serious Boys_

_As promised, this chapter is if you are perusing a woman because you really like her._

_ Well._

_ Let me tell you something._

_ True love does not exist._

_ So if you're serious, then sod off, because I will most certainly NOT help you. Live on, play-boys and womanizers. Please skip to the next chapter._

"Stop it!" yelled Granger.

"Why?" I asked innocently. "Can't I stare at you?"

"No!" she said, looking rather flustered. In inwardly chuckled. Perfect.

For the past three days I had followed Granger to her favorite spot in the library and sat in front of her, staring. Finally, a reaction.

"Malfoy, you are seriously starting to bug me!" she said defensively, her eyes narrowing.

"Good," I said, unconcerned.

She stood up so ferociously that the chair she had occupied was thrown to the floor. I gulped. She glared. "You've been acting really odd ever since school started," she said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blaise's head pop out from the bookshelf behind Granger. My eyes darted back and forth between them. Blaise stuck his tongue out. "Oh, shut up," I mumbled.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" Granger screamed.

I jumped. "Nothing!" I said quickly. "Nothing at all! I was practicing for the um…"

"The WHAT?" she asked.

"The, er…." I closed my eyes in humiliation. "The 'Write a Wizarding Novel' competition."

Her eyebrow raised. "Oh?"

"Y-yeah! It's about this Pureblood who-"

"I really don't care," she sighed, sitting back down. "Just hearing that you're writing a book is shocking enough. I didn't know you liked to write."

I instantly switched personalities. I couldn't afford to loose an opportunity like this. Leaning forward, I felt my Casanova side flick the tiny green "on" button. "You know," I said softly, "There's a lot you don't know about me."

She stared at me with wide, unblinking eyes. I started to perspire with my best seductive smile plastered on my face. It's hard to hold that face for more than a minute. Finally, she spoke. "I know more about you than even you do."

"Really?" I asked, trying to sound interested. Ouch, my face muscles! "Like?"

"Like the fact that your fly is open."

"Wha-?"

I quickly fixed my zipper, cool look completely wiped off my face, but Granger was gone, her books and bushy hair with it. "Bullocks," I growled.

Blaise tried not to laugh. "Looks like I won't have to do a strip dance after all, Dragon."

"Why don't you go pour water on yourself, campfire?"


	4. Worm Your Way into Her Affections

**If I DID own HP, I'd be JK Rowling. But I'm not. I'm Panneler-san. Plain old Pan-tan. Sad. Enjoy.**

_#4 Worm Your Way into Her Affections_

_There are several ways to achieve this. Here's the less painful way._

_ Annoy her. Annoy her tail off. Do the most annoying thing you can possibly think of. Girls are good-natured by law, so she'll keep her annoyance inside until it becomes so horrid that she'll snap. Act extremely hurt, various levels depending on the ferocity of her reaction. After that, leave her totally alone for at least a week. Do not talk to her. Walk with her. Look at her. Nothing._

_ No matter how much she hates you (or secretly likes you) she will definitely notice this. And she'll miss you. Or she'll miss your annoying-ness. Eventually, she'll confront you. Then you can handle it from there._

_ A more impactful way to achieve the worming process is to get into an accident. By accident, I mean "accident"._

_ Dig?_

_ Trust me, she'll flip when she thinks you're hurt. Then she'll naturally start to worry about you. This tactic is slightly more risky, but doubles the effectiveness. Next chapter, if you please._

"Hey, Granger!"

Twitch.

"Hey, Granger! Granger? Granger. Granger! GRANGER GRANGER GRANGER GRANGER GRANGER!"

"WHAT IS IT?"

"Nothing."

"Good. Leave me alone, please."

Silence.

"…Hey, Granger,"

Violent twitch.

"Hey. Hey! Hey, Granger?" Deep breath, "GRA-"

"WHAT do you WANT you PATHETIC EXCUSE for a FERRIT?"

I blinked, blank look crossing his face. Hermione didn't stop there.

"Constantly, every SINGLE DAY, for the past Merlin knows how long, you have not SHUT UP this whole time! You probably got this trait from that no good father of yours, and-!"

"That's enough." I said quietly.

Hermione's eyes grew large, realizing her mistake. "M-Malfoy, I'm sorry, without thinking, I…"

"Don't worry about it. I don't care."

Silence. I looked down at the book I had been pretending to read. Hermione's face twisted with a look that had "Regret" written all over it. After just a minute, I let out a silent breath and stood up, leaving the library with Granger's eyes following me.

Well, I almost made it out of the library.

A dangerous creaking noise met my ears. My head snapped up. The book shelf was falling over!

"Ah!" I yelped as the whole Potions section fell over my head. I was buried in the books.

I distantly heard someone call my name. I struggled against the cascade of books, trying to reach my wand in my robe pocket. A book larger and moldier that the others hit the back of my head as it fell. I heard a sickening crack from both my skull and my robe pocket.

"Oh, perfect," I whispered.

The next thing I knew, Granger was staring me straight in the face, hers a little too close for comfort. "You're awake!" she sighed in relief.

"You're…um… covered in parchment," I remarked. Old shreds of paper were stuck in her bushy hair and clinging to her robes. She backed off, and I saw my surroundings more clearly. I was in the hospital wing. And Granger's eyes were red.

The back of my head hurt like h – wait, Granger's eyes were red?

She noticed my staring and quickly turned her head in the direction of the window. "You should be more careful!" she sighed, poorly hiding her concern. "Why do you have such bad luck, Malfoy?"

I refrained from grinning. "I think I'm the luckiest man alive," I murmured.

She cleared her throat after a slight pause and stood up from her chair bed-side position, still hiding her face. "I've got to get to dinner. See you around."

Then she left.

Then Blaise came.

"And how's the injury?" he asked nonchalantly, shoving a package of what looked like chocolate frogs into my hands.

Bursting them open, I said, "Well, you could have pushed the shelf over slower."

"Hey, I shouldn't be helping you at all. It's not like I'm dying to do nude hula in front of McGonagall. Sure Dumbledore would've enjoyed it if he were still living, though…"

His thoughts trailed off, leaving him with a misted-over look on his face.

"Fire-man, get your head out of Mrs. Norris' arse."

"I'm just giving the facts! Mrs. Norris? How crude."

"I'm starting to think you're a bigger pervert than I am."

"Probably."


	5. Be Overprotective

**Disclaimer: Peaches.**

**Enjoy, sorry it took so long. I've been working on my other dramione.**

_#5 – Be Overprotective_

_I know what your thinking. Overprotective? Isn't that, like, annoying to girls?_

_ Not if you do it right._

_ First things first. DO NOT DO THIS WITH "JEALOUSY" IN MIND. Some girls think it's cute, but if you remember my words from chapter two, and I quote: "…the type that blushes and giggles like mad whenever a guy looks at her. If that's the case, then you got it easy._

_(Word of advice, don't go after those kinds. Been there, done that, trust me, it's horrid.)"_

_ And I still mean it._

_To other girls, they'll like it for just about two and a half fractions of a millisecond before it starts to bug them. So, how do we avoid this?_

_ Do not restrict her interactions with other men. Instead, be overprotective in a way that says, "I'm very concerned for you, all the time." THIS will get her to notice that perhaps she's more concerned for you than she thought (see #4, Worm your way into her affections, for more details, second option,) or that she really did miss you when you were gone (see #4, Worm your way into her affections, for details, first option.)_

_ Be subtle about this, though._

_ Then, in due time, she'll think, "Why?"_

_ Well, my men, that's when you pounce. See next chapter for details._

Once I had gotten out of the Hospital Wing the next day, I was slightly surprised to see Granger waiting for me outside the doors, fumbling with her hands.

"Granger!" I said.

She jumped a little, having not noticed I had exited the room. "M-Malfoy!" she gasped. Something slipped from her pocked and landed on the floor. She stared at it. I stared at it. Just as I reached out to grab it, her foot smacked down on it. "It's noting!" she said, snatching it up in her hands and hastily stowing it into her robes. "Just a bit of parchment."

I tried to hide the smile that played across my lips, choosing to pretend that I hadn't seen the letter clearly marked, "to Draco Malfoy." Who knew that Granger wrote get well cards? Well, maybe I was just being vain.

Maybe.

"M-Malfoy," said Granger, "About what happened in the library, um…what I said about your father…"

I stiffened.

"I-I'm sor-"

"Forget it," I growled angrily. "You were right, anyway." I began to walk swiftly away, feeling the anger boil up inside of me as I began to remember everything that had happened.

One thing I didn't expect was for Granger to chase after me.

"Malfoy!" she called, tripping to keep up with my fast pace. "Malfoy, I don't know exactly what happened, but I have heard a few things. Not enough to pass judgment or anything, but if you could just tell me what _did_ happen, then-"

"Just drop it!" I yelled, rounding on her. "You wouldn't understand, Granger, your family is perfect! If I told you what had happened, your thoughts on how everyone had some good inside of them would shatter! And you do everyone a big favor by thinking that! You have no idea how much you've-!"

I cut short, realizing that I was about to say something I would regret like none other if someone heard me.

"I've what?" she asked. "And why would you care if everything I stood for turned out to be my own delusions? This is about you, not me!"

"No," I said. "It is about you. I can't believe I'm saying this, Granger, but you and your goodness has infected everyone around you. It helped Potter, it helped my mum, it helped Weasley."

"What about you?" she breathed. I could see the starry glaze that covered her eyes, as if she was _flattered _that I thought this of her.

"Well," I smirked. "Maybe. But just know that this doesn't mean my opinion of you has changed for the better, or anything!"

She smiled. "Of course not," she agreed.

I gulped. "I mean it, Granger!" I said. "Don't go snooping around, either, trying to dig into this issue, got it?"

"Got it," she said, nodding. "But Malfoy, why _do_ you care what happens to me?"

I thought about it for a few seconds, prolonging the effect of what words followed. "Because I worry about you," I said, and slowly walked away from her.

I could feel her staring after me, all the way down the corridor.

Later that evening, Blaise cornered me.

"Hey, Dragon," he said, holding up two different sparkling pieces of cloth, "Which color do you think would complement me more? I mean, I'm thinking The green, right now, but blue looks really very good with my skin, if you know what I mean?"

"I don't think it'll matter much since you're going to be taking it off, anyway," I said.

Blaise blinked. "What do you mean?"

I blinked. "Nude hula?" I said, waving my hand around in small circles. "You know, Dumbledore would enjoy it if he was still around?"

"Draco," said Blaise, shaking his head. "Oh, Draco. Have you forgotten?"

It was right then that I got one of those feelings where you just know that you've forgotten something really, really big, but you'd completely forgotten it, and the very next words out of your best mate's mouth would be like words from the fiery deepest pits of Hell.

"The Seventh year Ball is next week, don't you recall?" asked Blaise.

I felt a horrid, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Oh, crap," I said.

"I wouldn't go out of the common room for a while, if I was you," said Blaise, tucking the green fabric under his arm and the blue one over his shoulder.

I gulped. "Why?"

Blaise grinned. "'Cause it's girl's choice."

"Double crap."

"Which reminds me, Pansy asked me to ask you if you'd go with her."

"Triple crap. You must hate me."

"Hm, well, yeah, kinda. Anyway, good luck dodging the dames."

"I have to do something," I mumbled. I could almost hear the shrieks of the girls as they came running to find me, bombarding me with every possible way to get me to go with them. It would be like reliving fourth year, when the Yule Ball was upon me.

"Good, great, wonderful Merlin," I said, glancing up at the ceiling, "What did I do to deserve being born so darn sexy? It's such a cruel yet wonderful fate."

If only I could survive the whole week without having a single limb torn off, then I swore right then and there I would kiss even someone like Granger.

(Not that I promised it to myself, or anything.)


	6. Pounce

**I do not own Harry Potter**

_#6 – Pounce_

_Oh, yes. This is the moment. The one you've all been waiting for. This, is where you pounce._

_ Now, you have this girl that you've been trying to get to fall in love with you for a while. Maybe, if you're lucky (or devilishly handsome, like me) she is already beginning to realize that she likes you._

_ If you're NOT lucky, OR devilishly handsome, then you must create a situation in which she will never forget. I mean, it's time to make a move._

_ Are you ready? Here's how you do it._

_ Create a situation in which she is forced to be alone with you, for whatever reason. (Example, (although highly unlikely) you are both being chased by an angry mob and must hide in a broom closet together.) The smaller the space, the better. I've done big and small, but the best results always come with the smaller space._

_ Remember that._

_ Strike up a conversation while you wait. Try not to make it too stupid. Don't go into any topic regarding love. Perhaps confess to her a time that you felt weak and hopeless. Or, make one up. Something involving a topic that she would get sympathetic over. Use your type analysis of her to choose the topic._

_ When there is a relative calm, then you pounce._

_ Do not, I repeat, DO NOT attack her. Here are a few things that would be considered going overboard: Suddenly saying you love her, asking her to have your children (got one nasty swelled cheek from that one, not recommended), anything too shocking. Words are not advised._

_ Subtle but mind-engraving actions are. Note the SUBTLE, please._

_ Merlin, note the subtle._

_ Be creative._

_ Next chapter, if you please._

"Holy licorice wands!"

"Run, Blaise!" I yelled.

The screams of the thousands of female voices was defining. I only had time to shout a warning before diving hard to the left and praying that Blaise had managed to get to safety.

How many of them were there? I could hardly breathe while trying to escape their iron, acrylic nail grasps. All around me, they were screaming. Oh, my ears. I finally managed to get lost in the crowd, although I was scratched, hugged, pulled this way and that, and had a few hairs yanked in the process.

This had been happening since I woke up. All the Slytherin girls had managed to sneak into my dorm while I was asleep, poised for the attack around my bed. They chased me into the bathroom, where I had barely managed to thoroughly lock the door and escape through the small laundry shoot that led to a room that was slightly connected to the kitchens.

The elves, Dobby included (I recognized my old house elf) understood my plight and desperate plea for help, and aided me in getting me to my first class on time. I skipped breakfast to do it, however, and had to make an excuse near the end of each one so I could leave early.

They were everywhere. Prowling the halls, ready for an ambush outside of all my classes, practically stalking me, even when I went to the bathroom. Because of the war, it seemed that girls from other houses were even chasing me. Because the Dark Lord was dead, that gave Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and even a few Gryffindors the right to tackle me?

I managed to make it through lunch alive, but that's when they were waiting for me, Pansy leading the ambush.

"DRACO!" she shrieked.

Blaise rounded the corner from behind the doors of the Great Hall, wiping some cream cheese from the corner of his mouth when he saw them. "Holy licorice wands!"

"Run, Blaise!" I yelled, diving hard to the left.

The hunt was on.

I hid myself behind a suit of armor as they ran past, shouting my name and calling for me to go with them. I hated girls choice. Once they had disappeared around the corner, I tip toed as quietly as I could down the hall, only to hear a defining shriek.

"THERE HE IS!"

I ran. It was the only thing I could do. Being a good twenty feet in front of them, I managed to throw myself into a broom cupboard and lock myself in the small, dark, cramped space. I stood, agitated, next to the doors, praying that they wouldn't find me. When the sound of their footsteps died once more, I sighed and sat down on the soft, warm…

Lap?

"Malfoy!" Granger shrieked in shock.

"Granger!" I yelled.

"Why are you-?"

I threw my hand over her mouth to silence her, knocking us both backward onto the real floor. "Are you insane?" I hissed. "What if they hear us? Talk quietly!"

"What are you doing in here?" she whispered.

"Hiding. If that wasn't obvious. What are you doing?"

"I'm hiding, too."

"What are you hiding for?"

"The seventh year ball…"

"That's why I'm hiding. Its girl's choice, though, why do you need to hide?"

"Actually," she said, "It's because of…"

I blinked. "Because of who?"

"Cormac." She whispered.

I blinked again. "Who?"

"Mclaggen!" she cried. "I don't know why, but he came back to Hogwarts yesterday, something about reliving past glories, and heard about the ball, and now he's hanging around me day and night, vying to get me to ask him to go with him!"

"He doesn't even go to this school, anymore," I pointed out.

"As I said, I don't know why he's here!"

"Well, we might as well find something to talk about while were in here." I said. "But quietly! I don't want anyone to find us."

"…Malfoy?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind getting off me before we talk?"

I swore as loud as my mind would allow me to swear in my head and pushed myself against the wall and off of Granger. I had completely forgotten that I was essentially lying on top of her when I knocked her over.

"Uh, sorry," I mumbled.

"No, no, don't worry about it, really," she said.

Most. Awkward. Silence. Ever.

"So," she said.

"So." I said.

"Umm…"

"Have you been studying?"

"As always," she said. "What about you?"

"Well, I've mainly been working on my future profession, studying stuff related to that."

"Oh," she said. "What do you want to do once you graduate?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not sure if I should tell you," I mumbled.

"Why not?" she asked innocently.

"Because its-!" I sighed and ruffled my slick hair, knocking it out of its usual style.

"Because its what?"

"Because it's embarrassing!" I hissed. "You'll laugh!"

She smiled slightly and shook her head. "I won't laugh," she promised.

"You will," I said confidently.

"I won't,"

"If you tell me what you're planning on doing, then I'll tell you what I plan on doing," I said.

Hermione's smile faded. "No chance."

"Why not? Too embarrassing, Granger?"

"_You'd_ laugh at _me_,"

"I won't."

"Tell me yours."

"You first."

"I-!" she gasped. "I want to study…inventing new spells."

I smiled. "What's so embarrassing about that?"

She blinked. "You don't think it's funny?"

"Why would it ne?" I asked. "It suits you. Didn't you make up that one spell in fourth year, the compass thing?"

"_Point me_," she said.

"Yeah, that one. It sure was useful, wasn't it? You'd be brilliant at it."

In the dark light, I could have sworn I saw Granger blush. "Y-your turn, now," she said. "What are you studying?"

I sighed, leaning my head back against the wall. "I actually want to get my Healers license," I said.

"And what is embarrassing about wanting to be a Healer?" said Hermione. "It's a wonderful profession."

"Well, don't you think it's out of my character?" I asked. "Draco Malfoy, the person who helps others."

"I don't think it's out of your character at all," she said.

"You don't think it's…stupid?"

"Not at all," she said warmly, beaming brightly in the dark. It shocked me to see Hermione Granger's face holding such a warm, beautiful glow… "You could never be stupid at anything you do, Malfoy. In fact you-"

I had no idea what possessed me to kiss her. Perhaps it was the way she was smiling. Maybe I had gotten cabin fever from sitting in the closet for so long. It could have been how warmly she was praising me. But when I woke up in the Hospital Wing six hours later with a black eye, I knew the reason.

"I wanted to know what Weasley could be so dumb as to give up." I honestly told Blaise.

He sighed. "I don't understand you, Draco," he said. "I thought that this was supposed to be about getting Hermione to fall in love with you, not the other way around."

"Who says I'm in love with her?" I gasped, horrified.

"You did kiss her," Blaise pointed out.

"That's because of number six!" I argued.

"Number six?" said Blaise.

"In my book,"

"Oh…pounce? You're already on that one? I don't think kissing a girl could be put under the category of 'subtle,'"

"Yeah, so, it just happened. I do not like Hermione."

"Since when has she been Hermione?"

I blinked. "Did I say Hermione, because I meant Granger! I did!"

"Mate, I think you're in great danger," said Blaise.

"What do you mean, Inferno?" I asked. "What kind of danger?"

Blaise smirked as he handed me yet another box of Chocolate Frogs. "Granger Danger."

**Please review!**


	7. Act Innocent

**I do not own Harry Potter. **

**We see a bit more of Draco's past in this one. Yay!**

_# 7 – Act Innocent_

_Whatever you chose to do to your girl in the enclosed space, it probably left a huge impression on her mind. As a matter of fact, she's most likely thinking about right now, as you read these very words._

_ This is where things get tricky._

_ The next course of action depends on what type your girl is. For example, physical contact with a shy, demure girl will have VERY different outcomes from the same contact with a outgoing, almost robust girl. So, I hope you considered your options for "making an impression on her mind" very carefully, because here's what you do next._

_ Act innocent._

_ You'll catch her stealing glances at you, staring when she thinks you don't notice, stuff of the like. So, you just pretend that you didn't do a dang thing to her. It was nothing big to you, right?_

_ But it meant the world to her._

_ If your girl can't stand your nonchalant attitude any longer, she'll come to confront you about what happened. If she approaches you angrily, then run._

_ Trust me._

_ Run._

_ If, however, she seems nervous, you're safe. Talk about it for a while. If she asks you why you did what you did, play it cool. Don't say something stupid like, "I want you for my woman" or I'll be forced to hunt you down myself. And you don't want that._

_ Once again, be subtle, because as you've probably heard before, sometimes it's the little things in life._

_ Just don't get your head blown off._

_ Continue onward, my apathetic friend._

I caught Hermione staring at me Ancient Runes. Once our eyes met, she turned a delicate shade of red and quickly looked back to her paper. I grinned.

Perfect.

Several minutes later, she glanced back up at me. I acted as if I'd just looked at her, too, and blinked in surprise, and then smiled slightly towards her.

Confusion clouded her face as she bit her lip and once again returned her eyes to the task at hand. From behind me, Blaise nudged me with the end of his quill, blotching ink onto my robes. I waved my wand and enchanted his inkwell to pour itself on his head.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Zabini?" asked the Professor.

"He seems to have spilt some ink on himself," I said loudly, standing up. "I'll bring him back to the common room so he can present himself in public once again."

"Very well," said the Professor, glaring from behind her glasses. "But be quick about it!"

I led Blaise out of the classroom, feeling Hermione's eyes burning into my back the whole time.

"What was that for?" he asked angrily.

"For saying I like Hermione."

"I haven't said that for three days!"

"But you were thinking it."

"…Can't argue with you there, mate."

"Malfoy!"

We turned around. There stood Hermione, panting to catch up with us. "Need something, Granger?" I asked, trying to hide the smugness in my voice.

"I have to talk to you," she gasped.

"Now? It's the middle of class. Can't wait till after?"

"You'd just disappear again, anyway," she said. "All those girls haven't stopped ambushing you, yet."

"Hm, very good point. Okay, shoot."

Hermione blinked. "Alone," she said.

Blaise threw his hands up in the air. "I'm just you're friendly forest fire, passing through," he said. "Don't mind me!"

"Blaise, beat it." I growled. "You look like an ink monster. Clean yourself up."

"Fine," he said. "Don't go Dragon on me, Draco."

"You are infuriating," I hissed. "Go already!"

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" he promised, tipping an imaginary hat to Hermione. "Granger,"

She nodded and he toddled up the hall, vanishing around the corner.

I leaned against the wall, totally lax. "So what do you want to talk about, Granger?" I asked.

She frowned. "You know exactly what," she muttered dangerously.

I blinked. "Do I?" I asked.

"Don't play dumb!" she hissed. "It's about…about that time in the broom cupboard."

"Oh," I said, "You mean when you punched me?"

"You kissed me!" she shrilled.

"Yeah, on the cheek!" I countered. "Merlin, Granger, you throw a good punch, I'll give you that."

"It was really close!" she insisted. "Two inches over and you would have touched my lips!"

"But I didn't," I pointed out. "What are you freaking out about? It's just a kiss."

"Why did you do it?"

"No reason in particular."

"You _kissed_ me, Malfoy!"

"On the _cheek_!"

"_Why_?"

"No comment!"

"_Why did you_?"

"Because I wanted to!"

"You hate me!"

"_When_ did I _ever say_ I hated you?"

YOU, YOU, YOU, You, you, you, _you, you, you…_

I hate echoes. They suck.

Hermione blanched. "W-what?" she whispered into the silence.

I mentally slapped myself. _You bloody idiot. _My life was over.

"You don't…hate me?" she asked.

I bit my lip so hard it bled and turned on my heel, pacing quickly away. I heard Hermione's delicate footsteps trip and skip after me, tapping lightly on the stone floor.

"Malfoy, wait!" she called. "Stop, we can sort this out!"

I halted mid stride. "Forget I said anything," I mumbled, earning her immediate silence. "It's for your own good. Besides, you…" I closed my eyes. "You have Weasley. You wouldn't understand."

Hermione reached out to touch my hand with her delicate, warm fingers. I recoiled at the warmth. "Malfoy," she whispered, her large brown eyes sparkling, "I want to understand. Please, tell me what you mean. I'll listen. I'm here for you." She squeezed my hand.

I'll listen. I'm here for you.

_ I'll never leave you, Draco. I promise._

Rage bubbled up inside of me, filling me to my very toes. In one, rushed movement, I ripped my hand out of hers. "You don't get it!" I snarled. "You have no idea, none of you do!"

"What are you talking about?" she whispered, pale all over.

"Always, people say they'll listen, that they'll never leave, that they'll be there for you!" I knew I was digging my own grave. I knew that Hermione had nothing to do with _her_. I knew they were two completely different people.

But I couldn't stop myself.

Because everyone had only ever lied to me.

And I had only ever hurt them.

"I don't understand!" she said. "Please, just tell me what you mean!"

I shook my head. "It's exactly the same," I muttered. "All of it. You'll never understand, Hermione, so just forget everything I've said to you and _leave me alone_!"

I raced back to my common room, leaving her stunned behind me. My head was screaming at me. _You bloody idiot! You stupid prick! How could you do this again?_

I slammed the door to my dormitory open, making Blaise jump a foot in the air from where he was changing robes. "What's wrong, mate?" he asked, instantly sensing my mood.

"The bet's off," I said.

Blaise blinked. "What?"

"It's off!" I said. "It's over! I can't make Hermione fall in love with me! I _won't_ make her!"

"What happened, Draco?" he asked severely.

"I'm a bloody idiot!"

"What happened?"

"I said the same thing to her!"

Silence fell. Blaise started at me, his eyes wide with horror. Finally, he swallowed and whispered, "You mean the same thing you told Ashley?"

"Don't say her name," I growled. "Or so help me, Blaise, I swear I'll kill you right now."

Blaise nodded. He knew I was being serious. "But doesn't that mean that you've started to like Hermione?" he asked.

"That's just it," I whispered. "I can't. I can't let myself."

"Because of what happened before?" he asked. "Draco, that's over with! Voldemort is dead, there's no one to threaten her!"

I shook my head. "I can't do it," I whispered. "I can't, and you know why. Please, just… Let me stop. Or I'll end up hurting someone else."

Blaise sighed. "I won't force you." He said. "Did you think I was going to? But Draco, there's a reason you want to be a Healer. Remember that it's not just to help other people. You can't gain redemption this way."

"But I can try," I said. "So there's no way I'm going to repeat the past. I'll never fall in love again, Blaise."

Because this time I'm scared that I'm the one who'll get hurt.

**A little more dramatic than humorous, but hey, the plot thickens!**

**R E V I E W P L E A S E!**

**I'll love you forever!**

**Pan-tan**


	8. Evaluation Time

**I do not own Harry Potter. Enjoy!**

_# 8 – Evaluation Time_

_So, you're trying to get a girl to fall in love with you. So far you've braved impossible odds and raging hormones to get to this point. This is the part where you think, "Just what exactly have I been wasting my life on for the past XXX weeks?"_

_ Something noble, my friend._

_ Hopefully, it's been a great experience for you so far, and I hope this had helped you expand your thoughts and actions when dealing with the female sex. If not, then you have a long way to go._

_ By this point, I've done all I can for you to help this girl start to notice you, possibly even start to care for you, but from here on out, I can only give small, simple things you could do to make her fall for you completely._

_ But here's the thing: Remember when I said true love doesn't exist? Well, if you find yourself falling for this girl, then you need out immediately. This is a book for PLAY BOYS. Heartless jerks that have a "flavor of the week" and whatnot._

_ Love is an illusion. Merely a feeling of confusion. Remember that, and brave the adoring crowds you will one day have with your head held high._

_ Evaluate your situation._

_ How do you think this girl feels towards you? Your future life could depend on this step. Be careful and cautious, and take your first step into the world of women and their odd, weird, twisted ways._

_ Ready?_

_ Here we go._

I avoided Hermione for the next week, and went completely out of my way to do it. I requested in both Potions and Ancient Runes that my seat be changed to the furthest spot away from her possible.

I changed my walking routs to classes. I went to Prefect meeting late and left early to stop unnecessary meetings. I had rather hoped that I was being very sneaky and discrete about this, but the fact that I often caught Hermione staring at me made me think she was on to me.

Blaise seemed to avoid any topic with her in it splendidly, as he knew talk of her would lead to our previous conversation. I was grateful to him for that. I never really was close to Blaise since my fifth year. Before that, it was always just Crabbe and Goyle. And, after Crabbe had died, Blaise became my best mate.

I was completely empty when he found me and, quite literally, saved me from the wreckage. I was broken. So many people had left me alone. But I still had my best mate on my side.

However, Blaise had very different thoughts on the matter. After almost three weeks, he confronted me.

"You can't run away from her forever, you know," he said lightly, throwing his legs up over the armrest in the common room and finding something very interesting on his nails to pick at.

My eyebrows rose. "Run away?" I said tensely. "What ever can you mean?"

Blaise cracked his knuckles, making me wince. "Oh, nothing much," he said loftily. "Just wondering when you're going to go back to Hermione and apologize for being a git." He shrugged. "That's all."

I twitched. "Being a git, am I?" I asked. "Did your mother ever tell you you're a prat?"

"Yes, twice," he said. "But that's not the point, Dragon. You are as ornery as a Hungarian Horntail, lately. You have eyes like a sneak-a-scope, for Merlin's sake! Just man up and apologize to her!"

"For what?"

"Yelling at her."

"When did I say I yelled at her?"

"About three minutes after you broke off our deal," he supplied. "By the way, do I get some type of consolation prize for my efforts?"

"No," I said. "But I _can_ give you a kick up the rear if you don't shut up about Hermione. Want one?"

"Rather," he sniffed distastefully. "I'll be quiet."

"No way am I apologizing to that bushy-haired horror."

Seven Minutes Later

"_Damn you_, Blaise," I muttered under my breath. "_Damn_ you all the _bloody way_ to _hell._"

I stood, waiting outside the portrait of the Fat Lady that led to the Gryffindor Common Room. I remembered where it was from third year, when Black went on a rampage inside the castle and attacked Weasley in the dorms. Never in all my years of life would I have imagined I'd ask the Fat Lady to send out Hermione Granger.

I seriously considered running away before the Portrait hole opened. In fact, I even lifted up my left foot three times, ready to spin on my heel and march off into a dark corner where my pride wouldn't follow me. But stupid Blaise had to open his stupid mouth, and now I was glued to the spot, waiting for my impending doom to exit the common room.

And my doom came in the form of a shoe flying at my head.

I ducked as fast as I could, the rubber bottom barely grazing the top of my head. "Merlin, Granger!" I exclaimed, straightening out in battle mode, but faltered under Hermione's intense gaze. I could tell she was angry.

Very angry.

Of course, my first instinct was to run away. But them I remembered that I was done with the bet, I had called it off, and I didn't have to follow the (very wise) counsel of my own book.

Hermione kept walking toward me with both shoes off. The one she had thrown at me rested near the other end of the corridor where it had hit the wall and bounced back. Her remaining shoe was clamped tightly in her right hand, raised threateningly.

I gulped.

"What?" she asked.

Bloody Bertie Botts, she was angry. (I got a bloody flavored one once, for the record. Nasty.) "Now don't get all emotional," I said nervously, taking a small step backward and raising my hands. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"About?"

"I want to apologize."

"Why?"

What's with the one word answers? "I feel like I have to explain to you," I said honestly. "Hermione, I… I never meant to hurt you."

Her eyes burned into mine for what seemed like an eternity. I felt like my face would crack under the pressure. Then, her face softened. She lowered the shoe with a sniff. Then, I watched horrified as she burst into tears.

"Bloody!" I managed to throw out. "Merlin! _Godric, _Granger, don't cry!"

She dropped the shoe to bring both of her hands to her face, rubbing the corner of her eyes in the most adorable, childlike way I could imagine. "I-I'm s-sorry," she murmured. "I, I just…" She wailed.

"Oh, for the love of-!" I grabbed her wrist and yanked her down the hallway, practically running in hopes that no one had seen us. There was an abandoned classroom at the end of the corridor (there seemed to be a lot of those at Hogwarts) that I had used several times for, er. Research.

For my book.

But I had no ill intentions, bringing her there. I really, truly just wanted her to stop crying. Honest.

"Have you calmed down?" I asked quietly once her tears subsided and the steadily growing pile of tissues I transfigured from paper had grown.

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm just upset. I really didn't mean to start crying like that, but I don't know what came over me."

I sighed. "I asked you to come out so I could explain bust a bit," I said. "Then apologize."

"Explain."

"I can't be – er – _friends _with you. I'm sure you've noticed that I've been acting odd towards you for a while, but I realized, because of prior experience, that no matter what, I can't ever call you a friend." Merlin, I hate lying. Blaise always tells me I suck at it. Friends, what friends? It was completely obvious that I had been hitting on her.

"I don't want to be your friend, Draco," she whispered meaningfully.

"And besides," I said, totally missing her words, "What would others think, right? A Slytherin and a Gryffindor, friends?"

"I realized when I punched you."

"It's almost completely impossible-"

"I don't want it to be impossible-"

"for me to be friends with you!"

"for me to love you!"

Second. Most. Awkward. Silence. Ever.

Hermione's red-rimed eyes burned into mine with a determination that had surpassed every emotion I had ever seen cross her face. And I could only stare. Then, with the fire burning in her eyes, Hermione Granger closed the space between us and kissed me.

And it wasn't on the cheek.

**OOooooOOOOOO! Yay! This chapter was way too much fun to write! I hope it was fun to read!**

**Please review!**

**Pan-tan**


	9. Be Sweet

**Okay. I have no excuse. Hit me all you want. I've left you hanging for, like, two months. Plus. Gosh, I'm awful. Hope this makes up for it (winks)**

**I do NOT own Harry and his Magical friends.**

_# 9 – Be Sweet_

_Let's face it, men – Girls like sensitive guys. I know what you're thinking: Crap._

_ It's true that any experience playboy once faced this hurdle. It is shocking, even I admit, to suddenly be faced with a world where you must actually show your emotions. It is horrifying. What are girls thinking? Aliens, I'm telling you._

_ So, I created an easy way out._

_ Be sweet. And no, I'm not suggesting any sort of innuendo – yet. By sweet, I mean do the little things. Hold her hand. Smile at her. Catch her eye. Read her poetry. Trust me, girls love these things. I would know. (I am _not_ implying that I am a girl, merely that I stand well-versed in the ways of the female mind.) With this, you'll be just one step closer._

_ Gook luck, and may your charm last you till the next chapter._

Okay, so it was surprising to say the least. Very, _very _surprising. So surprising that, for one glorious moment, I completely lost myself in Hermione's warmth. In fact, I was in that moment, so crazy, that I kissed her back, with nothing on my mind, no worries, no thoughts on the past, the future, what in Merlin's name I was going to say to her after this…

My arms wrapped tenderly around Hermione's waist. She groaned softly, and I found myself leaning in hungrily. Soft, supple lips. Warm, tantalizing breath. Why, she was almost exactly like… "Ashley," I whispered.

She froze. I realized my mistake only too late. Hermione pulled away, her face blank.

"H-" I stuttered, "Hermione-"

She left. She left me without even glancing in my direction. When I followed her out into the hall and called after her, she didn't even turn around. She just kept walking. And I wasn't man enough to go after her. Because in that moment, I realized something very important.

Five Days Later

"You have to tell her," said Blaise seriously. I could not, however, take him seriously when he was wearing that ridiculous blue outfit. The ruffles had to go.

"No," I said firmly.

Blaise sighed. "Draco," he said, "The tables have completely turned. You can't just ignore this."

"Yes I can."

"What's she going to think?"

"Does it matter?"

"Mate, the ball is tonight. Don't get tied down to Pansy just because you want to show indifference like some…some…"

"Some what?"

"Like some bloody love-sick puppy!" he said.

I stood up. "I'm not going to."

I left the room, much like how she had five days ago. I was ashamed. The fact that she hadn't shown up for any of her classes with me just made it worse. It was no longer me avoiding her – she was avoiding me. I had caught several glances of her in the halls, near the Great Hall, around the corridors. Just glances. She hadn't been smiling in any of them.

I realized as I left Blaise behind in the dormitory and went to go hide from Pansy somewhere that I had won. I had gotten Hermione to fall in love with me before Christmas. Long before, actually. But it didn't count. I was very sure she didn't love me now. I laughed at this bitter idea of irony without humor and made my way out of the common room and to the first place I could think of.

The forest was cold, obviously. I was in nothing more than a black t-shirt and grey sweats that I had fallen asleep in the night prior, having been too lazy to change into my usual Malfoy-attire. In fact, I didn't even feel like a Malfoy. Malfoy's had pride, and all of that had left me with a simple realization.

I nearly smiled as I thought of how Blaise would react when he found out I wasn't going to the ball at all. Pansy could go to the devil. There was no way I was dancing any more with her, not after the Yule Ball.

I walked aimlessly down the path, staring up into the sky with eyes that were lit up by the stars that were already appearing in the trees above me. The ball would start soon. I was suddenly overtaken by an image of Hermione clutching Cormac Mclaggen's arm, looking as stunning as she had in fourth year, smiling up at him with a warm light in her eyes.

"For the one forgotten, the one left behind," I quoted quietly, "I already left you."

With the first line of the familiar poem on my lips, the rest flowed effortlessly from my mouth.

"_This person knew he would not see one like you;_

_You are the only one of your kind_

_And the light in your eyes_

_Has always betrayed your heart._

_I could have come after you;_

_My fingers were already reaching out,_

_But I did not, and neither did the one I speak for._

_So, on his behalf, I can say without unease;_

_Last night, good night._

_For the one forgotten, the one left behind,_

_I already miss you."_

I took a breath and decided not to finish the poem, out of pure embarrassment for myself. I must have looked like a fool, standing in the woods, reciting poems. I hadn't even slicked back my hair that morning, so I looked even less like myself than I would have liked.

I sighed. "I'm a fool."

"I like the poem," someone whispered.

I was surprised, of course, but I couldn't bring myself to turn around to face her. So, like a coward, I hid. "What are you doing out here?" I asked quietly.

Hermione let out a quiet breath. "I saw you come out here from the Great Hall. I have some time before the Ball starts."

I turned my head back to the sky and shoved my hand in my pockets.

"What was that, by the way?" she asked into the silence. "That poem. Did you write it?"

"No," I said. "Poems aren't my thing. I'm more of a… Historical Fiction kind of guy."

She made a noise that I wasn't sure if I could mistake for a laugh or a sob. "Who did write it?"

I clenched my teeth. "A friend of mine."

"Was it Ashley?"

I swung around to face her, and nearly fell over at what I saw. She was breathtaking and beautiful, yet so, so sad at the same time. She was no longer fourteen years old – I much liked the seventeen year-old Hermione a little more. Her hair hadn't been smoothed out as it had once before. Instead, it was natural and unchanged. I noticed this was what her hair looked like every day.

Merlin, had she always been this beautiful?

Over the years it had unfrizzed on its own and now hung around her back with the ends melting out into a slight wave. She was wearing a silver dress that had been enchanted to shimmer with every step she took, flashing a rainbow of colors that all fit so well. It came gracefully down to her knees with a slight flair, and was wrapped around her torso with an Imperial neckline that showed the soft, white skin on her neck.

In the moonlight, I could have sworn that she looked like an angel. Next to her, I felt like nothing. My chest constricted painfully as I thought of her question. "Yes," I said. "She did."

Hermione smiled slightly, her painted pink lips separating ever so slightly to show her perfect, straight teeth. When had they become the right size? I hadn't even noticed. She averted her large brown eyes from me and stared at the ground, using a delicate hand to brush some of her perfect hair behind her ear, revealing her silver earrings. "Can I hear the rest of it?" she asked. "It didn't sound like you had finished."

I didn't know what else to do, so I nodded. "Sure."

Her smile became sad. "Thank you." I wasted no time.

"_Last night, good night._

_It was never a one sided love-affair_

_Because your eyes betrayed your soul._

_I could never leave you, and yet I had walked away._

_I could not stand to say goodbye,_

_And yet what choice did I have?_

_Your eyes may have betrayed your heart and soul_

_But my actions betrayed mine._

_What can this man do, when faced with such a loss?_

_For the one forgotten, the one left behind_

_I can only take his place and say,_

'_Last night, I loved you.'"_

I had been staring at the leaves the whole time. I looked up, having finished, and was not too surprised to see that she was crying. Her eyes were brimmed with tears that were silently spilling over onto her cheeks.

"It's a very good poem," she whispered, bowing her head. "She had talent."

I traveled the six feet between us and hugged her, closing my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She didn't cry out loud. Her arms simply tightened around my back, her face pressed into my shoulder.

"I'll tell you," I murmured. "I'll tell you everything. I couldn't keep this from you if I tried. I will tell you, but not today. Not now. But I want you to know that I've realized something."

She still said nothing, and I put my chin on top of her head, closing my eyes at the silky feeling of her hair on my skin.

"Hermione," I said. "I don't love you."

Her grip tightened and she nodded in acceptance, getting ready to pry herself from me.

"But," I said softly, "I know I will someday. So, until then, it's okay for you to cry. You don't need to hide it from me."

She began shaking slightly, but I could tell she was trying to be strong. I smiled up at the stars.

I didn't kiss her; it didn't feel right. It wasn't the right time. We both knew this, I think. And we were both fine with it. Hermione didn't leave my embrace for most of the night, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment that she didn't leave to go to Mclaggen. She must have felt the same way about me and Pansy, I realized. I knew it would take time to get Hermione to forgive me for what had happened when she kissed me, but now she knew that I still had to forgive myself.

**I understand that this is a little fast and stuff, but trust me, it's not like it gets easy for them here on out. There will be doubts on both sides. Re-thinking. All that nasty stuff. So perhaps in a way, it hasn't even happened yet…**

**Well, I rather enjoyed writing this chapter, anyway.**

**Review?**

**Pan-tan**


	10. Gifts

**What was that, like, two weeks? Meh. I'm getting better.**

**I do NOT own HARRY POTTER!**

**Did anyone see the movie? OMG AMAZING! STUPID ENDING! AMAZING!**

**I can't wait for the next part.**

_# 10 – Gifts_

_At this point, you've expressed yourself. I know how you feel. You're exhausted. You want to puke. You want to sleep. You probably want to curl up and, well, die. But, know that you are one step closer. One moment away from the boon of your labor. This is judgment day._

_Yes. Indeed. It has finally come. As we of the male population know, the female senses cannot pass up this heavenly substance. They love it. They flock to it like bees to honey. They swarm around like lionesses going in for the kill – chocolate._

_ The very grace of God in a bite-sized snack._

_ Who could want more?_

_ Next chapter – if you dare._

"I don't eat chocolate," said Hermione.

Right then, I think I died.

"Draco?" said Hermione, tilting her head up toward me. "Are you okay?"

I was most certainly not.

She frowned, eyeing the dark brown rectangular box in my outstretched hands. "Is this because I won't take the chocolate? That's it, isn't it? I knew it. When are you going to grow up?"

"Grow up?" I choked. "How is that possible? You don't eat _chocolate? Chocolate! _Are you allergic?"

She shook her head, balancing the large Ancient Runes book on her bare knees, pulling the fabric of her shorts further down her thighs. "No."

"No?" I really was going to die. "Then why not? Do you not like it? Are you one of those, Hermione? Merlin, tell me you're not one of those!"

I could have sworn I saw her mouth twitch into a smile. "No, I like it, I just don't eat it."

Right then, I think my soul was sucked out.

"I'm on a diet," she explained. Her cheeks flushed slightly, but her expression remained neutral.

I frowned. "Diet?"

She nodded. "Yes."

I frowned deeper. "You don't need a bloody diet."

"Yes, I do. I need to burn off calories."

I laughed and finally lowered my sore arm down, placing the chocolate on the library table. "Burn off what calories?"

"You know!" she said. "Fat."

"There's nothing on your stomach but skin!"

"Is not."

I scoffed. "Very mature."

"Thank you."

"What are you wearing?"

"Jeans," she said, fidgeting with the fabric once again.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked, gesturing to the exposed skin reaching half-way up her thighs. Not that I was complaining she was wearing it, but…

"No. This is probably the last day of good weather before it gets cold, right? I'm going to wear my summer clothes until it's impossible to."

"Who makes these jeans, anyway?"

"They're Muggle," she said, shrugging. "Make it less appealing to you?"

Slightly disappointing, but no less appealing. "Who said you looked good?" I asked, keeping my cool.

"You just did." She smiled. "I have to finish the Ancient Rune's homework. Why don't you work on it, too?"

"I finished the star chart last week," I said.

She stared blankly at me.

I stared blankly back.

"You've finished?"

"Mm."

"Impossible." She pulled her legs up to her chest, the contraction pulling her shorts back a few more inches. The book she kept on her lap. "Let me see."

I rummaged around in my bag without complaint, pulling out the large parchment and handing it to her. She opened it and examined the contents. She frowned.

"Impossible."

"What?"

"You have finished."

"Told you."

"I haven't even finished."

I grinned. "Jealous?"

Madame Pince kicked me out of the library a few moments later after her nose detected the smell of chocolate. Hermione waved goodbye to me happily as I was dragged out by my ear. Several seconds after the doors closed in my face, Blaise appeared next to me.

"Tough."

"Shut up."

"Question for you," he said, leaning against the doors casually.

"Shoot."

"Pansy's pissed. Will you talk to her?"

"No."

"Fair enough. I don't really want you to. She's been buggering me to ask you. Next question."

"Alright."

"Are you aware that McGonagall is retiring at the end of this year?"

"Now I am. Why?"

"She's bloody old, mate. Two more."

"Hurry up, campfire."

"You're on…ten, I think? Gifts?"

"Correct."

"Then you don't have too many more chapters before you run out of pre-written material. What are you going to do then?"

"I could write in the rest if you would just give me the book."

"No chance. Last question."

"I'm growing old, here."

"This one is important."

"Hurry up! Merlin, it's like you're building up the suspense like a stupid, badly written romance novel or someth-!"

"Your Mum is here. Will you see her?"

Silence was loud. Numbly, I could only push out three words. "Is she okay?"

Blaise frowned. "That's for you to decide."

I stumbled forward, heading for the entrance hall. That was where she would be. I got down the stairs, Blaise trailing several yards behind me; as if afraid I'd fall. I reached the bottom and saw a dark shape, turning toward me, long blonde hair framing her face.

I broke into a run.

"Mum!"

"Draco," she whispered, enveloping me in her arms.

I hugged her like my life depended on it. "Are you okay?" I mumbled into her cloak. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Draco, I'm all right."

"Did Dad do something?" I asked, pulling back sharply, studying her eyes intently. "Did he talk to you?"

She shook her head. "No, Draco," she cooed. "No, sweetie. I – I just want you to come home. I got the announcement in the owl post last week. I came out as soon as I could."

"The…announcement…" I mumbled, my grip on my mother's cloak slacking. "For…for the divorce?"

"It's been approved," she whispered. "I also got an invitation."

I felt numb. "Don't go."

"Like hell I will."

"Good." I hugged her again, pulling her as close as I could. "Good."

"Will you come back?" she asked. "I'll get you into a good University. You can still be a healer, Draco. Just…come back to me. Just for a while. So we both have time to heal."

I spotted Blaise out of the corner of my eye. He was standing in the center of the hall, silently overseeing us with a troubled look. I saw only concern in his eyes, for so many things. I thought about Hogwarts. If I left now, I'd never come back. It would be over for me. I thought about Hermione, who I'd been with only a few minutes before. I might never see her again.

No, I would never see her again. But my mother…

"Let's go."

"Draco," she breathed. "Thank you. I-I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll do anything to help us both forget."

I shook my head, turning my back on Blaise, who nodded at me, and headed for the doors. "No, mum," I said. "I don't want to forget. I'll never forget or forgive that man. He's not my father anymore."

She came after me and helped me push open the doors as we walked out into the last of the good weather before autumn would hit full-force. I wondered, briefly, if Hermione had any Jeans for winter. I suddenly realized that I didn't have the chocolate with me. I'd left it with her. I barely smiled.

"I'm sorry, Draco," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. If I'd known…"

"I don't want to forget," I said again, taking her hand and helping her to the gate. "I can't forget." It was that simple. "So I won't."

**Review please? I'd love it, as a sort of "Huzza, Harry Potter 7's out" present. Go Harry!**

**Panneler-san**


	11. Thoughts

**SURPRISE! I couldn't wait to get the next chapter out, so I killed my plans to upload it on Saturday and did it today! It's my Thanksgiving gift to you!**

**I claim no ownage :P**

_# 11 – Thoughts_

_It is imperative that you spend the majority of your time getting your target under the impression that you think often of her. What kind of thinking, well, that's up to you. I cannot hope to understand any man who would spend his precious thinking time fantasizing. It's pointless. There is no benefit in pursuing a real relationship, as I have made quite clear by now._

_ Anyone that thinks otherwise shall suffer by my hand._

_ One example of such – whose name shall HARRY POTTER remain unmentioned – was a boy from my year at Hogwarts. He fancied a certain female that was in love with someone else, and when that boyfriend died, she really just used him. It was really funny. The whole school knew about it._

_ Merlin, good memories._

_ Back to the point. How can we put this female under the impression that we think of her? Simple. Show her that you worry. And when I say worry I mean "worry". Like, when glass breaks or something, make sure you don't let her touch it. She might cut herself, and that'd make you sad, blah, blah, blah._

_ Something like that._

_ You can do it, but can you handle the next bit of advice?_

I didn't see him at first. I smelt him though…

Fear stunk.

"Draco," said Lucius. His voice was much too calm to be a perfect reflection of his true emotions.

Instinctively, I moved to cover the opening into the main hallway. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't I see my son?" he asked, pushing his way past my shoulder and into the house. "I heard you dropped out of Hogwarts, even after all the trouble I went through to get you back into it."

I threw my arm out so that his chest rebounded off of it and he was pushed back out of the door. "I am not your son!" I yelled.

"Aren't you?" he asked, the gleam in his eyes growing dangerous.

"Bastard," I snarled, "What do you want?"

"I'm here to speak to your mother," he said.

"I'm not letting you see her."

"That's for me to decide."

"_Get out_!"

His composure fell. "Fine!" He backed up. "You've lost me, Draco. You've lost your father forever. You're too much like your mother, too proud, too conceited. You _shame _the Malfoy name. I don't care if I'm not your father, but you're no son of mine! I only have one child!"

"Get out!" I was enraged. "Get out! Go home to that woman and your bastard baby! I don't care, just never talk to my mother ever again!"

"Draco?"

I slammed the door shut and whirled around.

My mother rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and yawned. "What is it? Who's at the door?"

"No one." I whispered. "It was no one. Go back to bed."

I wanted to see Hermione and Hermione only. I wanted to see her – no, I needed _her_. Which her, though?

Ashley?

Or Hermione?

I spent the rest of the early hours of the morning in my room, pacing a hole into the carpet and throwing my pillows at the wall. At one point I considered chucking the glass mini-cauldron that I used to brew experimental healing potions, but decided against it.

I didn't want to wake my mum.

At five in the morning, I sank onto the floor next to my bed and held my unslicked-hair in my hands. I wanted to see… It was hours after the fact, but my pulse still raced from my encounter with Lucius. I couldn't even think of him as my father. Not anymore.

She would be waking up. If I knew her, she might already be up. I wondered how she would react when she found out I had left. Would she be angry? Sad?

Lonely. That's how I felt. Betrayed. By myself, mostly, but also by her. That was right. I blamed her. It was her fault. No, no that wasn't right. It was his fault. Not hers, not Hermione's, not mine.

His.

Not mine.

And that was the biggest lie, the furthest thing from the truth. The most beautiful lie of all.

_Hermione Granger's 101 Ways to Kill a Malfoy_

_# 1 – Hunt him down. _

_Enough said._

It was roughly two days after Draco had vanished from school that I realized I needed to do something about it. Before I could, however, I received his letter.

I held the envelope in my hands. It was very tempting to crush it. Very. He leaves the school and then has the gal to send me a letter? I opened it with a (very unnecessary and dangerous) severing charm. I read the letter.

_Hermione,_

_I'm sure you're wondering where I am. I'm at home. Don't ask me why, please. I didn't plan on contacting you at all, and yet you are reading this letter. My self control slipped. I at least had to say this to you._

_ I really miss you. I think about you all the time. I know I sound like a girl, but it's true. I'll probably never see you again. I'm never coming back to Hogwarts, either. I know you wanted to graduate with everyone from our year, even me, and I'm sorry that I had to let you down. I hope things go alright with Ron. I hope you can get him back, or something, even though he doesn't deserve you. No one does, actually. Especially not me._

_My only regret about my decision is that you'll hear my story from someone else. I regret that I didn't get to tell you myself. I regret me. I hope, someday, when you have millions of little Weasley horrors running around, our paths might cross again. And if I'm lucky, perhaps a real friendship might be in order._

_Until then,_

_DM_

To say I was pissed would be an understatement. In fact, I was so much more than just pissed. I was pissed beyond all belief.

"Merlin's pants!" I shrieked.

From across the common room, Neville jumped and Ginny swore loudly. "Hermione, what is it?"

But I didn't hear – I was already running. "What the hell does he mean by saying 'Ron' like it's no trouble?" I screamed to the whole castle as I winded my way through the sleepy, noon-day Saturday students. "What happened to good old Weasel?"

I was not going to rest until I found out what in the bloody name of all that was dead he was talking about. Blaise seemed unwilling to help me.

"He just went…home," he said lamely, shrugging.

I almost screamed. "Why did he go home?"

"It's none of your business."

"Ha!" I shrieked. "Ha, ha, ha! What the heck? It's none of my business? It's my business like nobody's business!"

"Hermione," said Blaise, blinking with only one eye and passing me a folded piece of parchment, "I suggest you find someplace to cool down a little. Take a break from school, I mean, if he is that important to you…"

I furrowed my brow and opened the parchment. "What are you talking about, Zabin- oh."

He smiled evilly as my face lit up at the words scribbled on the parchment. "You never talked to me," he whispered, and turned back into the Great Hall to finish the meal I had so rudely yanked him away from.

I smiled.

This was going to be a fun hunt.

_Wiltshire, England_

_1912, Anima Way_


	12. Cleanliness

**I apologize for the wait :P**

**I do not own Harry or Potter or Harry Potter….**

_#12 – Cleanliness_

_Every female loves a guy who can clean up after himself. I'm not suggesting that you become a neat-freak or stuff of the life, but I do suggest that you keep some moderate standards of cleanliness in the following categories:_

_ Clutter_

_ Yard_

_ Room_

_ Kitchen_

_ Appearance_

_ Body Oder_

_ There is nothing more terrifying that a man who looks clean and smells horrid._

_ Trust me._

_ I know._

_ Continue on, my good fellow, to clean in these areas so that your mind becomes infected by the cleaning state – meaning that you will be clean inside and out._

_ The female mind can handle the occasional relapse of boyish attitude, but too much dirty is much too dirty._

_ Catch my drift?_

_ Cleaning with your target in mind, for example, will train you to be clean in front of her, but allow you your male sanity once out of her sight. You train your mind, body, and, in a sense, her as well. Because every female loves a guy who can clean up after himself._

_ Continue onward, friend._

I loved Hermione's skin. It was always so bright, so soft, so…clean. And her eyes. Oh, Merlin, her eyes. They were so deep. So mysterious. So…

Warm.

There was no other way to describe her. She was just warm. Bright. I knew I admired her. As much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I truly didn't love her. But I wanted to. Merlin, I wanted to. I wanted to hold her in my arms, bring her close to me, kiss those supple lips, draw her in closer and closer.

She was my salvation from my savior. I couldn't serve two masters. I knew this, and yet, why was my head always filled with thoughts of –

"MUM!" I screamed.

HORROR.

"MUM, WHAT IS THIS?"

The kitchen was a disaster. I couldn't even begin to name half of the things splattered across the walls and the floor. What looked like a whole, dead, rotting turkey lay on the counter top, wings spread out to the sides. Pots and pans littered the marble, some with holes rusted right through the bottom. It was the worst thing I had ever laid eyes on.

Ever.

"Draco?" came my mother's voice. "What's going on?"

"What the hell have you been doing in here?" I screamed.

She shifted nervously with the ruffles at the end of her pale-blue night gown and bit her lip, turning her head away from me. "Cooking?"

I nearly passed out.

Twice.

"What about Toppie?" I asked. "Where has she gone?"

"The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare insisted that she was unfit to work here at the Manor after…after…"

I nodded my understanding. "Was she injured?" I asked.

Narcissa's eyes filled with tears as she gave a cross between a sob and a sneeze as she nodded. "Toppie…bless her soul… I told her that the should leave and find paid work somewhere else, but she refused and said she wanted to stay here…with me."

I knew how close my mother had gotten to the House Elf since she was alone most of the time, but I hadn't known the affection had been mutual.

"She refused to work at Hogwarts. She said she'd come back to the Manor once she heals completely. But it'll take a while…"

"And you've been without a cook or a maid for months," I mumbled. "Why didn't you ask for a replacement?"

"Well, I did," she said, wiping the water out of her eyes. "About a week ago. The replacement will be temporary, but it'll arrive today. A friend of Toppie's volunteered, apparently…"

"How did I not notice?" I mumbled. "I've been home for nearly a week and haven't walked past the kitchen once? How come I didn't notice? Wait…you…" My face twisted in horror. "What have you been feeding me?"

"Take out," she said. "Don't worry."

I breathed an audible sigh of relief. "We can't wait for the replacement to get here, Mum," I said. "I'm going to start cleaning now. I can't live in this house for another second knowing that this is here. Grab the sponge out of the cupboard upstairs, will you? With a grave look around the kitchen once again, I added, "Maybe grab _all _of them."

I cleaned the entire house for the better part of six hours, only stopping twice for a small break. The clutter and mysterious splashes of…whatever it was on the walls slowly began to vanish.

My hands were rubbed nearly raw. I never used my wand when cleaning; it was the only thing I didn't trust magic with, especially when it came to being through.

I found so many indescribable things of unspeakable horrors whilst traversing the nook and crannies of my home. The only room that didn't need cleaning was my own – I'd left it clean when I went to Hogwarts. The worst room of all had to be the bathroom.

Utter. Horror.

Words could not do justice to the universal mess that seemed to scream catastrophe across the very surface of the world when I saw the bathroom. We ran out of sponges very fast.

The morning slowly wadded into late afternoon when my Mum's stomach grumbled.

I smirked. "Hungry?"

She nodded sheepishly.

I chuckled. "Go sit down – the kitchen's clean enough that I can make something in it, now."

Her face brightened considerably as she squealed like a little girl. "Do you really mean it, Draco? It's been _ages_ since you've cooked for me!"

With the patience of a small child on Christmas, she rushed into the dining room.

My smile softened. "Yes, it had been ages."

I chopped, stirred, sautéed, baked, and boiled. Soon, the heavenly smell of real food was circulating throughout the house. I sighed as I scooped the bread out of the oven. "Perfect," I muttered. I smiled in glee as the soft bubbling from beneath the lid on the stovetop alerted me that roast was done. "Heavenly." I laughed in sheer delight as I opened the steam door to see the perfectly done broccoli. "Majestic." I floated down the corridor to the front door when the door bell rang, gracefully pulling it open.

My jaw dropped.

"Yo."

I felt every limb in my body freeze up.

"I'm you're new House Elf. Pleased to meet you, Young Master Malfoy."

I nearly exploded from the shock.

"May I come in and start cleaning?"

Finally, I found one word that I was sane enough to spit out of my mouth, "_Granger?_"

**A HA HA HA HA HA HAH! ****I absolutely love fanfiction! Don't you?**

**YAY! Please review! As a Christmas present, a review is what I want! If you have any suggestions or comment or questions, please ask me!**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

**Pan-tan**


	13. Keep Yourself in Check

**I have a very good explanation, and I promise that if you won't kill me, I will make it up to you. My very good explanation will be at the bottom.**

**I do not own Harry Potter**

_#13 – Keep Yourself in Check_

_You've manipulated her – no use denying it. No sense in even trying. You're a manipulator, my friend, and now you must gain another helpful insight into the female mind:_

_ They punch back._

_ So, what do you do?_

_ You dodge. Do not give her an opportunity to believe that she is wining. You are the master, and you must make her know that she cannot resist you._

_ Go, fight, win._

"Draco, dear, who is this?"

"Uh,"

"I'm your new housemaid. I'm subbing in for Toppy? She was a good friend of mine when the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare made paying the workers a requirement. I'm also the head of S.P.E.W."

"We've already cleaned up today, dear. Why not come in to have dinner with us?"

"Mum!"

"I'd love to, Mrs. Malfoy."

"It's Black now, actually, dear."

"I apologize, Mrs. Black."

"M-mum, I don't think-!"

"Oh, hush, Draco! It's so chilly outside, the poor girl is going to catch a cold if she keeps standing there like this. Invite her in!"

"But Mum…"

"_Do it!_"

"C-come in, Hermione…"

It was the single most awkward roast dinner of my existence. Hermione and my Mum talked the whole time, laughing loudly and obnoxiously at each other's jokes. I couldn't lift a finger. Hermione seemed so carefree that I was beginning to wonder if she was angry about me leaving…at all.

She must have felt something! She was here, in my house, as my…House Elf?

I squinted my eyes in her direction, looking her up and down. She still looked human. She certainly wasn't short, saucer-eyed, and ugly. Perhaps it had just been a metaphor…?

"Draco!"

My eyes snapped to my Mum's face. "Huh?"

She glared at me. "Could it be…you weren't listening?"

I blinked? "Hmm? Oh, no, I was listening!" I said. "Devotedly! Heard every word!"

"So, it's okay with you, then?"

"Absolutely!" I declared. "Completely! …Er, what are we talking about?"

Mum clapped her hands together and said cheerfully, "Perfect! It's all settled, then! Hermione, dear, you can have the guest bedroom diagonal to Draco's."

"Thank you, Mrs. Black!" Hermione said with relish, her eyes alight.

My jaw nearly hit the floor.

"You can start work tomorrow, dear, but for today, you're my guest, and I'll go get your room ready for you!"

Mum jumped up from the table and ran girlishly up the staircase just outside of the dining room. When I was sure her footsteps had died away, I spoke.

"Granger!" I hissed quietly, "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"Oh, stuff it, Draco!" she hissed back.

Oh.

She _was_ angry.

"I will not! If you're my House Elf, then you have to listen to your master, don't you?" I said, feeling triumphant. "So answer my question! How did you…how did…you…oh, my G-…"

Hermione's face became puzzled. "What?"

I was horrified. "How come you're not at school?"

"It's not important," she said, and seemingly bored with the conversation, began clearing up dishes.

"Not important?" I repeated hollowly. "Granger, what the _hell_?"

She blinked angrily. "My duty as the head of S.P.E.W could not be ignored!"

"But you skipped school!" I yelled. "You've never done that before! You're still not at school! You're here, at my bloody house, in my bloody kitchen, cleaning my bloody dishes! What about inventing spells?"

"It's not important!" she yelled back, heading off to the kitchen with the dishes in hand. "I've made my choice, Draco Malfoy, and not even you can sway it! It's my duty as the head of S.P.E.W-!"

"Spew this, Spew that, is that stupid group the only thing you ever talk about?" I asked, reaching out to grab her forearm. I fell a little short and instead only grazed her skin with my fingers. "Is this stupid thing worth quitting your education over? God, Granger, I thought you had more brains than that!"

Having reached the sink, Hermione threw the plates into the sink, effectively shattering one of them. She turned back to face me. I was shocked to see angry tears in her eyes. "You don't get it, do you?" she shouted. "You really can be such a stupid arse!"

She pushed past my shoulder, heading for the staircase that Mum had gone up earlier. I ran to catch up to her, this time not falling short of grabbing her. With my hand wrapped around her wrist, she was forced to look at me. "What the hell are you talking about?" I breathed dangerously.

"You – you-!" she hissed angrily. "I didn't come here for the sake of my goddamn honor, you arse!"

"Then why are you here?" I yelled.

"TO SEE YOU! DRACO, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

I could only watch as she fled from my grasp and dashed up the stairs to her room. She left me there, and I couldn't give chase, no matter how much I tried. My legs refused to move after her. Instead, they moved me in the direction of the basement.

I could barely think as I blasted the door to the dark, dank room open with my wand, nearly knocking it off of the hinges. There was a small chair near the entrance. I saw red as I painfully recalled the memories of this room and the chair. I wanted nothing more than to block them out. My rage took over, and I grabbed the chair, smashing it against the wall with a frustrated yell.

She had left because of me! She had left her education and dream behind because of me! I would be lying if I said I was flattered – I was far from it.

I was furious.

I was disgusted.

How many more, I asked myself, how many more would have their lives changed because of me? Because of my selfishness? Had Hermione thought this would make me happy? If anything, I felt like going outside and hanging myself –

_No._

I stilled. It was her voice.

_No._

My shoulders slumped. I was ashamed.

The voice did not sound again in my ears. It seemed as if I was alone, once again. This enraged me. My eyes caught an image in the corner of the dark room, and my blood ran cold.

It wasn't real. I knew it was just my over active imagination, playing cruel, horrid tricks on me, and yet I couldn't look away. It was vivid – as vivid and real as the day I had seen it. I let out a strangled cry, backing into the doorway.

"Draco,"

I didn't dare turn around. It made sense that she was here, and yet I still did not want to think about why… My eyes glued to the corner, I gulped.

"I'm sorry. You deserved better than this. I have to leave you, though. Your spell won't last forever. It's been fading, have you noticed?"

My throat too tight to speak, I nodded.

I heard her smile behind me. "Draco, Hermione is coming down to apologize to you. Please, tell her about…this. Keeping it inside will only hurt you, and I won't be able to move on."

My head shook frantically.

"Draco," the voice sighed, "I want you to do this. I can't rest knowing that you won't allow yourself to love again. Please, tell her. Promise me. Draco? Look at me. Promise me."

Slowly, I tore my eyes away from the horrid sight and faced the light. She was there, beautiful and bewitching. It tore my heart in two. She smiled at me, just as she used to, and whispered, "_And the light in your eyes has always betrayed your heart._ I love you, Draco."

She materialized, and a wide-eyed, disoriented Hermione stood in her place. "W-what-!" she gasped.

I had to tell her. Now.

"What was…Draco, who was-?"

"Hermione," I whispered, gently stepping forward and taking hold of her hand, "It's time I told you about Ashley."

_Malfoy Manor_

_January 5__th_

_1997_

_One Year until the Battle of Hogwarts_

I blinked as the knocking on my door became louder and more obnoxious. I sighed, angry and bitter at the fact that my break was being interrupted. I was due back at Hogwarts two days ago, and at the Dark Lord's personal request, I was staying home.

He had told me that he had a special mission for me, completely unlike the one I had been given the year prior. My father had been hesitant at first, clearly not comfortable with the arrangements. He submitted to the will of the Dark Lord, however.

My Mum had been a completely different story. She refused, flat out and loudly, insisting that my education was of the utmost importance before she was forced into submission by the Cruciatus Curse.

It had served her right. How dare she go up against the most powerful Wizard of all time? Several days had passed since the Dark Lord had promised to contact me. This obscene knocking was driving me insane. Unless it was my master himself, I swore I would kill whoever was behind that damn noisy door.

I grumbled to myself as I got out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I was prepared to fight whoever was knocking, but stopped short at the sight of my father. I grinned. "Dad!"

"Insolent boy!" he snarled. "Hurry downstairs! The Dark Lord has come and left with your…assignment. Even I am baffled beyond reason as to why he seems it necessary to punish you so profusely."

I frowned as I followed my father down the stairs and into the great, marble entrance hall. I could faintly hear my mother arguing with someone, probably one of the House Elves. It wasn't.

"I'll call the police!" the girl shrieked.

I found myself pausing momentarily. She was very…eye-catching. Her hair was like a brand of fire; it caught in the light pouring from the high windows and accented her deep, brown eyes. Bust most of all, it was her clothing.

"Muggle?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Muggle." Responded my father stiffly.

"Good God, people!" the girl screamed.

My eyebrow rose.

"I have a name, and I expect you to use it!"

"And?" I asked. "Your name is?"

Her eyes flashed as she uttered the two words that changed my life.

**My mother took the wireless router that connected to my computer in a stupid attempt to lessen my internet time. The next morning, I went to her to get it back. Lo and behold, surprise, surprise, she had lost it. After refusing to look for it for at least a month, I then urged her to buy a new one. Two months later, I gave up and took the case to my father, who then bought me one. And, yay! It wouldn't work! Who would have guessed? Now, after a very long and excruciating process in which I received several angry reviews, I have access to the internet again. I swear on my life that this will never happen again. Please continue to support me as I update my stories on a regular basis.**

***bows***

**Panneler-san**


	14. Temper

**I don't own Harry Potter. Enjoy!**

(Don't forget to review!)

_#14 – Temper_

_In a recent study shown by middle-aged, married Witches, more than seventy-nine percent said that the one thing wrong with their marriage was the husband. The cause? Their short-fused tendencies._

_ Remember, men, women are annoying. They are loud, winey, and a right pain in the arse, but they are crafty. Instantly, they can turn a situation around so that they are no longer the problem – you are. They have these secret codes, believe it or not. We can say something with pure intent, and they twist it. Whether or not it is an art developed over the ages to save themselves or vent their frustrations, it remains a fact that women can't stand angry men._

_ So how do we avoid this cruel treatment altogether? Quite simple, actually; we remain calm. Composed nature is key to success. At this point in your advances, the girl will feel the need to rebel. She will insult you. Above all else, you MUST remain calm. Yelling will never solve a woman's desire to push her own fault onto you._

_ You must be crafty – you must be quick. Go._

_ My reputation sits in your hands._

"You asshole!"

A vein popped in my neck.

The yet-nameless girl smirked in triumph and continued her attempts at pushing my mother off of her.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"You heard me," she called up at me. "That's what you are!"

I snarled and started moving down the remaining steps, but my father was faster. There was a loud smack, and the girl held a hand up to her cheek where he had struck her, her face frozen in shock.

"You bitch!" he snarled. "How dare you talk to my son in this manner? You will apologize or I will kill you!"

I saw the fear flash in her warm brown eyes. Mum cleared her throat. "Now, Lucius," she said softly, "Don't you think you're being too-?"

Another smack and my mother stood in the same position as the girl. "You will mind your tongue as well, Narcissa! This girl is nothing but Muggle filth! I will not permit you to stand up for her!"

I smirked – my father was superior in every way. The very power that radiated from him was bordering on the obscene. If I had not been blessed with a calm attitude, I would be shaking in my boots.

My mother slowly lowered her hand and nodded in submission. "Yes," she whispered.

"You sick bastard!" screamed the girl. "You'd hit a woman? Your own wife?"

A shadow crossed his face as he raised his hand yet again in a threatening manner.

I stepped in. "Father," I said, "This…_thing_ is my assignment. The Dark Lord has trusted me with this task."

Lucius lowered the offending limb. "Of course, Draco. The Dark Lord wants you to be in charge of this girl. You may use any means necessary to get her to cooperate, but you are not allowed to kill her." He smirked. "Pity."

"We are taking Muggle prisoners, now?" Narcissa dared venture quietly. "Why? We have never done so before."

"Silence!" barked Lucius.

Mother did as she was bade.

"Narcissa, take the Muggle and Draco to the basement. Allow them to…get used to the girl's living quarters."

"I _said_ my name _wasn't_ Muggle!" The girl grumbled softly.

The basement was cold, just as I had remembered it. There were no windows, and the only thing inside was an old, wooden chair. I noticed my mother's soft voice as she led us to the room. She was whispering soothingly in the girl's ear.

"I'm sorry, dear," she said, "I wish I could help you. Please, bear with it for now."

I ignored her – I could deal with her attitude later. I pushed the heavy door open and grabbed the girl's wrist. "I'll take things from here, Mum," I said, dragging her inside.

"D-Draco!"

"I paused and looked in her eyes.

"Please," she whispered, "Be nice to this girl. She's just lost-!"

"Go upstairs, mother," I said. "Later today you'll need to feed her."

I closed the door in her face, summoning darkness. The girl gasped. I sighed in exasperation and reached into my pocket, grabbing my wand.

_"Lumos,"_ I muttered. The room illuminated brightly, and the girl ripped herself from my grasp.

"What the?" she sputtered. "What the hell?"

Once again, I smirked. "Never seen magic before, you poor creature?" I asked. "With your spirit, you could have made a fine Witch. Too bad you were born as Muggle filth."

"I have a name!"

"Oh, yes, I remember. It's asshole, right?"

"You jerk!" she yelled. "I demand that you return me home immediately! I don't know _how_ you're doing that light thing, but you said witch? You're barmy!"

"You will not speak to me in this manner," I hissed. "You'll learn respect for your superiors, even if I have to beat it into you!"

"So now you and your band of kidnapping thieves are child abusers?" she said. "Of course, you're still a child, too, so it only really counts as bullying!"

"That's where you're wrong," I said, smirking. "In the Wizarding world, I am an adult."

She laughed. "Wow, I'm glad I wasn't born into a society of babies!"

I almost hit her. My hand twitched violently, but I did not raise it. I couldn't – a very old, very wise Wizard's words were still ringing in my head. Time had passed. I felt as if it had been years ago, and yet I knew it had not. So, I shoved my fists in my pockets instead. "You're the child. Or am I mistaking your courage for pride?"

The girl sat down straight on the floor, crossing her legs in defiance. "Ashley."

I blinked. "What on earth are you-?"

"That's my name, _young master Draco_," she said. "Not Muggle, filth, slime, or child. Ashley. Got it? A-S-H-L-E-Y!"

This girl was seriously starting to tick me off. "Okay, so your name is Ashley!" I cried. "Merlin, didn't your parent's teach you any manners?"

"You're barmy!" she said yet again. "Merlin? From the Sword in the Stone? Like Disney, do you? Never been one for it myself – those princesses just piss me off!"

I frowned. "Disney?"

She stared at me, a half-forgotten laugh frozen on her face. After a short silence, she said, "Are you serious?"

My frown deepened. "What's Disney? A Muggle thing?"

"Okay, first of all, what's a Muggle, and second of all, um, WHAAAT?"

"You're so crude," I said. "Worse than Weasley, even."

"And you're a crazy jerk," she countered. "I'm a prisoner, so why don't you just, oh, I don't know, go away?"

I left. More because I was sick of her lip than anything. I made sure to lock the door with an extra hard spell before heading upstairs. The rest of the day, I pondered over what my father had said.

Was this assignment truly a punishment? Perhaps for my failure last year? This Muggle was the most annoying creature I had ever laid eyes on. Rude, too. Very pretty, I had to admit, but still…

It was sometime around three in the morning when I woke up.

She was screaming.

In a moment I had dashed down to the door of the basement and blasted it completely off the wall. She was lying on the floor, thrashing and screaming something. She was still asleep, I realized. Her eyes were shut. A dream?

No.

A nightmare.

I knelt next to her and grabbed her shoulders. "Amy!" I said. "Er, no, Alice! Ashley! Ashley, wake up!"

She was still screaming when she opened her eyes. It must have been the dark, I realized. Quickly, I lit my wand. Her eyes settled onto my face and the yells died down. I was terrified when she began to cry.

I was horrified when she hugged me.

At a loss, I didn't move. She was doing strange things to me. I wanted to push her back and pull her closer all at once. This was wrong – this Muggle girl holding me. And yet I wanted to comfort her. I was nowhere near a solution. I was stuck at an impasse.

As Ashley's sobs gently died down, I did the only thing I could think of.

_"Time and again, however well we know the landscape of love, _

_and the little church-yard with lamenting names, _

_and the frightfully silent ravine wherein all the others _

_end: time and again we go out two together, _

_under the old trees, lie down again and again _

_between the flowers, face to face with the sky."_

Ashley stopped crying completely. I was shocked that she had made me lose my emotions like that. I had been in the same room with her for a grand total of eight minutes, and yet that was long enough to completely lose my head?

Her grip slackened around my waist slightly as she whispered, "Time and Again. Rainer Maria Rilke."

"You…know that poem?" I asked softly.

"I'm a poet myself. Of course I'd know it, you jerk. Here's one you should know if you have Rilke memorized. _Love is enough: though the world be a-waning, _

_And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, _

_Though the skies be too dark for dim eyes to discover _

_The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, _

_Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder, _

_And this day draw a veil over all deeds passed over, _

_Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter: _

_The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter _

_These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover._"

I swallowed. "Love is Enough. William Morris."

She grunted softly and, to my chargin, softened into my chest, red hair spilling out over my robes like a blanket of leaves. "I knew you weren't a total moron," she whispered. "Even if you did kidnap me, no one who reads poetry can be that horrid…"

She was Muggle. I'd barely met her. She was beneath me. She was inferior. She was detestable.

She was beautiful.

I knew my fate had been sealed the moment she had told me her name.

Ashley, I later realized, was a fate that led me to Hermione. But at the time, I didn't realize just how through Voldemort's punishments really were.

**I would LOVE it if you would review. Now, just to clear up some questions, the Ashley Arc will last for, say, roughly nine to ten chapters, including this one. Maybe less, maybe more. We'll see.**

** Oh, I did not write the two poems in this fanfiction. The credit goes to the above mentioned authors. Please don't sue me.**

** *sigh* aren't updates nice?**

**Pan-tan**


	15. Fascination

**I like this chapter. I'm so proud of the emotion… Poor Draco :(**

**Anyway, please tell me what you think. Is anyone already sick of Ashley? Want this to be strictly Hermione/Draco? Cause I CAN go by what the crowd wants, you know… Maybe.**

**A/N is at the top today because I want more impact at the end. One of those, you understand. He he he! Thanks for reading!**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

_#15 – Fascination_

_ As a man (interested in women or the other respected sex) you must show a type of interest in your prospective partner. I know, you're wondering, "Well, what does he think we've been doing this whole time?"_

_ The answer, my men, is WOOING. Making yourself desirable in the eyes of another is easy. Making them believe that they are desirable in your eyes, however, is quite a different matter._

_ No woman, no matter how shallow, will allow herself to chase after a man who is not interested in her. They may like them, crush on them, admire them, but they will not put themselves through the pain and ridicule of rejection. So, what do we do?_

_ We hint._

_ We nudge._

_ We wink._

_ But we don't tell._

_ Got it? Got it? Really? Good. Now go away._

"Why were you crying?" I asked Ashley the next morning. Mother had handed me a nice-looking blue tray that held a modest-looking breakfast, and I only assumed that she wanted me to take it down to the loud mouth.

"Wouldn't you?" she scoffed behind a mouthful of toast, reaching out to grab the cup of coffee.

"What do you mean? Malfoy's do not cry."

"Look, mate," she said, "I was kidnapped by a family of weirdoes, had my life threatened three or four times, was separated from my family, and for the love of Pete! Why on earth is my jailor a high-school drop-out that reads poetry! Not that I'm complaining about the poetry part, but…"

"So it doesn't bug you that you're a Muggle?" I asked.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Hm?"

"I mean, er…" I cleared my throat. "That my family and I are Wizards?"

She shrugged. "I still don't really believe it," she said. "Can you pull a rabbit out of a hat? Me too, actually. I think just about anyone can do something as simple as that. Is there a light bulb at the end of that twig or something? I'll admit it was odd, but still."

"Fascinating," I mumbled, watching as she practically inhaled the rest of her food.

"Hm?"

"Nothing much," I said. "I'd just expected…well, not this. Are all Muggles as lax as you?"

She shrugged again. "I dunno. 'haps so. 'haps not. Wanna hear a poem?"

Whether or not I was going to say yes, she interrupted and recited the poem anyway.

_"Roses are red, Violets are blue._

_ This poem is bonkers,_

_ And so's is you!"_

She was grinning, seemingly rather pleased with herself. I shook my head. "Classy. Really, though, can't you be a bit more original than that?"

"I _could_," she said exasperatedly, drawing her knees up to her chest and picking at the end of her long, deep orange hair. "But…You know. No originality these days. Everything spawned from something."

Ashley looked very relaxed at this point. She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, smiling softly up into nothingness.

My breath caught in my throat as she did this. Merlin, what was I _doing_? Had I gone insane? Even while thinking these thoughts, knowing that it was so wrong, knowing that she was a Muggle and I was a Pureblood, I couldn't help the quiet word that slipped from my lips.

"Beautiful,"

Her eyes snapped open. I realized what I had said, and I nearly swore. Ashley didn't look me in the eye, but when she spoke, her voice was full of sadness. "Only my father has ever called me that. He's all alone now, looking after little Janey by himself. Now that I'm here, he'll have to raise her by himself."

"You…have a sister?" I whispered.

Her smile became even more tragic. "Little. She'll be seven next month. She's no doubt wondering where big sis 'as gotten off to. Hey, does my dad know…? Where I am, I mean?"

It broke my heart to tell her the truth. "I don't know. I haven't heard anything from anyone, and I doubt that I will. I'm just supposed to watch you."

She snorted through her nose, completely obliterating the serenity that had settled over us. "Yeah, right. 'm I some kind of rare African frog that you're keeping in a tank? No, really, why did you kidnap me, anyway? For the ransom?"

"Have you seen my house?" I asked. "Do we look like we need Muggle money?"

"I guess not." She laughed. "You're too soft for a kidnapper, Young One. Granted, it was your dad's friends that did the job, but still. Funny friends. They didn't seem to fancy him much."

I avoided answering her.

"Tell me more about this Wizard thing," she begged suddenly. "Please, it's only noon and I'm already thinking about the different ways I can arrange the Roses are Red poems! I'm going insane!"

I wanted to laugh at the way her mind wandered. "First thing you have to know about the Wizarding world," I said, "I blood status. Now, I'm what you call a Pureblood…"

_October 23rd_

_1999_

I sat on the cold, stone floor next to Draco and listened to his story with my eyes shut. Near the beginning of his story he had grabbed my hand. Whether it was for reassurance that I was listening, or to make sure that I didn't leave, or just so he could be comforted, I didn't know.

But I squeezed back.

His head was bowed. Every now and then, he would pause as he talked. After about two hours into the story, he stopped talking for so long that I turned to look at him, opening my eyes to the darkness of the dungeon. They widened.

"And she…" he whispered.

Draco's face held the most terrible sorrow of any living being I had ever seen. It was worse than Harry's after Sirius had died. It was worse than the memory of Snape after Lily was murdered. It was worse than the darkest, deepest parts of my heart.

"It's okay," I said. "You don't have to go on. I understand."

His hand squeezed mine even more tightly. "No. Let me finish. I have to…"

It broke my heart to watch him, clearly broken, tell me a story that was casting him further and further into the abyss.

"I'm not sure when Ashley realized that our world was real, but I know that she believed me after a while. I came down to this basement every day to bring her food, and I'd stay until the next mealtime. We'd talk. She told me about his sister. Her father. How she'd never known her mother. We swapped poems. She wrote a few about being kidnapped. They were limericks. We laughed so hard."

His voice grew shakier.

"After a few weeks it was like blood status didn't matter. She didn't agree with it, anyway. Said something about civil war. She was my friend. I was hers. I-I loved her. The odd thing was, I'd spent my entire life being told that someone like her was inferior, someone to be hated, scorned. And yet I never once thought that in her presence. Not once. It was as if I wasn't a Pureblood and she wasn't Muggle. We were just…kids. Children. It didn't take me long at all to fall for her."

I wiped a stray tear away from my cheek slowly, praying he wouldn't notice.

"It wasn't a punishment at all," he whispered. "I should have realized that something was wrong. Why hadn't my father stopped me from being with the filthy Muggle all day? Why hadn't I noticed the strange look in my mum's eyes whenever I would speak of her? How could I have been so blind?"

"Did…"

He jumped slightly at me voice. "What?"

"Did…Did Voldemort kill her?"

I could tell something was wrong. It must have been right. I had to have been right. But then that same, terrible look crossed his face, and my eyes were drawn to the tear that dropped off the end of his chin as his own eyes closed once more.

The look was unbelievably and fantastically terrible.

"No," he said. "I did."


	16. Agree

**I have no excuse for being so late. Hit and beat me all you wish! Please, just avoid my nose…**

**I don't own Harry Potter 8)**

_# 16 – Agree_

_ There are two situations in which it is quite important to keep your trap shut. One such instance is when the woman is right. Trust me, saying anything will just get you a earful of woman pride. The second instance in which you shouldn't say anything is when you are right. Truthfully speaking, no woman will like hearing the words "I told you so"._

_ So just shut up._

_ Rule number one – the woman is always right. Rule number two – If said woman is wrong, refer to rule number one. Agree with her, always. Disagreeing will make it seem as if you are a know-it-all, and we all know that those lots are insufferable._

_ Good luck._

Ashley wasn't in the basement.

I blinked into the darkness, thinking my eyes had played tricks on me. They hadn't. "Ashley?"

Silence.

"Ashley?" I tried a little louder. "Ashley!"

"Looking for your Muggle, son?"

I spun around. "Father!" I cried. "Ashley – she's gone-!"

Lucius hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side. "How strange."

I stared at him. "Do…do you know where she is?"

"I have an idea," he admitted. "She couldn't have escaped. She's a mere Muggle. The enchantments on the dungeon were too strong."

He was too calm. I could see the sparkle in his eye that could have passed for glee at first sight, but then a closer look told me it was worry. It had been worry… I thought.

"Lucius!" my mum called from the top of the stairs. "I'm not finished talking to you!"

"I told you to stay upstairs," said Lucius threateningly.

"I won't!" Narcissa shrieked.

Her face was cut. The ugly bruise that had not been present on her cheek that morning dulled in the light from the high, tall windows of the main hall. She had been crying, I could tell.

"You will go upstairs," whispered Lucius.

My Mum flinched. "Lucius-!"

"I will not have this discussion in front of my son, Narcissa."

Tears filled Narcissa's eyes once again as she cast a desperate look at me before fleeing to her room.

"What happened to her?" I asked him in alarm.

"She tripped down the stairs this afternoon."

I believed him.

"As for that Muggle," he said, "I have no doubt that she will return soon. Poor boy," he whispered. "Poor, poor boy…"

I frowned. "Father…?"

"You fancy her, Draco."

I wanted to deny it, but deep down inside I agreed wholeheartedly. So instead I said nothing, simply staring at him with wide eyes.

Lucius smirked, the glee becoming dominate in his eyes. "My poor son."

He swept out of the basement, chuckling to himself as he went.

Ashley reappeared in the basement sometime after dinner. I hadn't noticed it at first. I sat on the chair in the corner and waited, my eyes drooping with wanted sleep. And then she was suddenly there. She saw me, I knew. She could tell that something was different about the way I was acting.

I had waited for her return for a reason. Ashley said nothing, and I, too, was silent as I stood. My footsteps were not loud, rather soft and ghostly as I made my way over to her. I paused directly, our toes almost touching. Then I pulled her into an embrace.

Ashley hesitated at first, but her arms eventually wrapped around me, her hands clenched into fists around my robes.

We conveyed the things we had thought about for months, but never said out loud. We both knew, and yet neither of us had the courage to act on it. It was a feeling that only we knew, and that only we could understand.

"I really want to kiss you."

I closed my eyes at her words.

"But I'm afraid." She dared not pull closer or away. "I'm afraid that if I let you kiss me now, you won't move on. I won't move on. So I won't let you kiss me."

"No one is moving anywhere," I said firmly. "Don't you dare try."

She sniffed – small droplets of water splashed onto the exposed skin of my neck. I had never felt her this distressed before. Something must have gone terribly wrong when she was missing. I still didn't know where she had gone, nor did I care, at this point. Holding her was the only thing that mattered to me, now.

"Where did you go?" I asked quietly. "What did they do to you?"

"I met him," she whispered back. My grip on her shifted and fell so that we were about a foot apart. She continued. "I heard your dad mention him the first day I was here, but I never thought he would be so…could be so cold. It was terrifying. He said I'd have to leave you eventually."

"No!" I said. "No, you can't!"

She chuckled softly. "Don't want me gone anymore, do you?" she asked. "I wrote another poem. It's called 'The One Left Behind'. But I won't recite it to you, not yet. When all this is over, then I will."

"Ashley," I said, "What else did he tell you? I know that's not all."

Slowly, she slid completely from my touch and took a step back. "You could always see through me," she said. "Very well, Draco. They killed my father."

A part of me died with her words. Her father? The man who she had said she loved so much for not turning her away when her mother abandoned her? The person who had taught her everything about life was gone? I couldn't say anything.

Suddenly she dropped to her knees, grinding her palms into the stone floor and lowering her head in the most humble way. "Please," she begged, "Let me go."

She was worried about her sister. I knew just from her voice, from the look in her eyes. Everything was different now. "You know what will happen to me, don't you?" I asked coldly.

"Yes."

"You realize that I'll be branded a traitor by everyone that I know?"

"Yes,"

"And you know that we'll never see each other again?"

"Yes!"

"I'll help you even though it will destroy me," I whispered.

Ashley stilled. The weight of my words finally sank into her. "Thank you…Thank you…" she murmured.

"Promise me that, if we ever see each other after this, that you won't leave me by myself again," I said. "Please promise me."

Ashley had never lied to me before. I never expected her to. But at that moment, with three important words that were still silent on our lips, she whispered, "I'll never leave you, Draco. I promise."

~D~M~101~W's~

I watched from the window on the top floor and narrowed my eyes. Ashley shifted nervously beside me. Every few seconds she would mutter something about rich people and the hard-working middle-class. She winced through the window, almost impatient for dawn. I reminded myself that she hadn't seen daylight in months.

It was inhumane, what I had done to her. No matter what happened, I would get her home.

"Why aren't we leaving?" she whispered.

"Just wait a while longer," I said. "I want to make sure of something. We'll go in ten minutes."

"You're scared," she said suddenly.

"No, I'm not." _Damn. Should've agreed._

"You _are_," she gasped. "You've never done something like this before, have you?"

"There are scarier things, trust me," I muttered under my breath.

"Try me."

"Ever been told that you and your family would die a torturous death if you didn't assassinate one of the most powerful men in the world?"

"That is _so_ going on my bucket list," she whispered.

"What's that? A disease?"

"Don't worry about it," she said, waving her hand. "But yes, that is very stressful."

"Being a Wizard is, in general, really," I said.

Ashley chuckled. "So is being a normal person, if you believe me."

"I believe you," I said seriously.

The air became a little awkward. Ashley turned her head and coughed, hiding the blush that stained her ears. "Before I leave," she said, "I want you to know that you've been a horrible kidnapper."

"And you're the worst hostage ever," I returned, grinning.

We locked eyes. The small smile on Ashley's face slowly melted away. I leaned forward.

"You hate me," she whispered softly, breath tickling my lips.

"When did I ever say I hated you?" I asked. I just couldn't agree with her on that.

Purebloods and half-bloods and Muggles and Mudbloods did not exist. Only she and I lived under the sky.

"Draco, look," she whispered, nodding her head to the window.

The moment I did, missing my chance to kiss her, I felt a horrible feeling rise in the pit of my stomach.

In the early twilight of the dawn, the Dark Lord paid a visit to Malfoy Manor.

**A little too short for not having been updated in SIX FREAKING MONTHS but hey, I'm exhausted. I'm cutting the Ashley arc short. Rejoice, for soon it'll be pure Dramione! Yay!**

**Panneler-san**


	17. Like VS Love

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: Extreme sadness, gore, death, and mention of abuse. You have been warned. I've never written anything so dark before in my life, so skip it if you don't want to be depressed for a while :/**

_#17 – Like VS Love_

_ Women are a tricky breed, my faithful readers. We men say something completely in the ordinary, such as, "Wow, its hot today. I'm thirsty."_

_ To which the woman responds "What's THAT supposed to mean?"_

_ When faced with words like that, know that you might have just trodden on a land mine. So, females tend to over think simple things, to say the least. They over think how to do their hair, what to write in their diary's, how much to eat for breakfast, and even what bloody color to wear._

_ Us, we don't take everything quite so seriously. We're chill about these things. There isn't a need to worry over trivial matters, is there?_

_ Oh, but there is._

_ The time has come to reveal your intentions. As per usual, we must keep an air of subtle attitude about us. This means that we must mention it briefly, as if in passing. When revealing your intentions to court a woman, we do not sit her down and talk openly about these things._

_ Our mission is to mention, and let her make the first move. There is a problem that we must face first, however._

_ Like VS Love, my minions. The true question that plagues the hearts of women all over the world is centered on those three words. Depending on the female type analysis, each has its benefits and downfalls. 'Like' is usually the best option to mention in passing for all types. Their heartbeat will increase and they might blush a bit if you chose to discreetly mention that you may, in fact, 'like' them._

_ Now, 'Love' is a bit trickier. The effects of saying you love a girl vary depending on her type, and how hard she's fallen for you at this point. Some girls just eat it up. Others can get very freaked out._

_ In general, I would recommend starting with 'Like' and slowly make your way up to 'love'. However, the second option does tend to stick in the female mind for longer, even if they reject you in a moment of panic._

_ Ah, why are girls so complicated? I'll tell you why. Because they're not men._

_ Go get her._

"That's the man that I was with last morning," whispered Ashley. "He appeared in the cellar and suddenly we were both in a room somewhere else. It was funny – I didn't remember the door opening."

"You saw him?" I asked quietly, my eyes shifting from her to the window where the Dark Lord was making his way to the front door of the Manor. "What did he want with you?"

"N-nothing. Just asked me a few questions. So, he's like the Wizarding Mafia boss, right?"

I frowned. "You could say that. Are you sure he didn't say anything weird to you?"

Ashley grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. "Draco," she whispered. "Please, let's go now. Let's get away from him."

I shook my head. "I can't apparate now," I said. "He'd notice. And he'd follow. Just wait up here, okay? My dad and mum never come up here, anyway. Once he's gone I'll come get you and we'll leave. You'll be with your sister by lunch."

"I should hate you," she whispered. "Your father, his friends, and that man killed my dad. I should hate you, but I don't. I can't. Not even…" She trailed off.

"Wait here." I stood to leave.

"Wait!" she called, pulling me back down. "I need to say something."

I blinked. "What?"

"Your mum," she began. "Your mum is really nice… she deserves better than…well, how you've been treating her, and I think you know that. I realize that you respect your father, but a woman's heart is fragile, Draco. When someone tells us that they love us, we believe them, no matter how badly they act toward us later on. It's that trust that ruins people like your mum, who has one of the biggest hearts I've even seen."

I felt guilty. I knew what she was saying was more than accurate. I had been treating my mother with disrespect, and I felt terrible because of it. "Why are you bringing this up right now?" I asked.

"I saw your mum before breakfast yesterday while you were still sleeping," she confessed. "She brought me another blanket and we ended up talking. Draco, haven't you noticed those scars on her face?"

I felt my blood freeze. "I only saw them yesterday," I whispered.

Ashley looked as if she was on the verge of tears. "When she comes to give me fresh clothes or water, she always has a new scar. She keeps telling me that she tripped or she cut herself on some broken glass in the kitchen, but I know she hasn't."

Slowly, I began to remember the bruises on my mothers face. They had been appearing more frequently. She had become more submissive, meek, and quiet whenever she was around my –

"He said she fell down the stairs."

Ashley bit her lip. "Draco,"

"I believed him. He said she fell down the stairs! He would never – Oh, God!"

I hadn't noticed. How could I not have noticed?

Quickly, I stood, yanking my hand from hers. "He even hit her in front of me, the day you came here!" I hissed. "Why didn't I notice? He even hit you!"

"Draco, calm down," she begged. "I'm not trying to get you angry over this-"

"HE'S BEEN HURTING MY MUM!" I yelled.

She was silent.

My teeth clenched together. "I'm going to kill him."

I forgot everything. Ashley, the Dark Lord on our doorstep, my plans to help her escape, even my own name. The only thing that I could think of was that my father had been beating my mother. Distantly, as I flew down the stairs, I heard someone call after me.

They were waiting near the entrance at the bottom. They were arguing.

"…girl has nothing to do with us!" cried my mother.

"If the Dark Lord wanted an audience for his punishment, he would have taken care of her already. She _is_ his punishment, Narcissa."

"Like how marrying you was mine?" she asked bravely, standing a little taller.

Lucius snarled and raised her hand to slap her and she flinched. "You bi-!"

My fist made contact with his jaw. He fell onto the floor. "Don't touch her!" I screamed.

"D-Draco," Narcissa whispered.

"Don't you dare touch my mother!"

"Draco-!"

_Knock._

_ Knock._

_ Knock._

We turned to face the entrance. The door was already open. His thin, bony knuckles rested against the frame where he had tapped lightly to catch our attention. On the floor, the robes that he wore billowed out softly, inches away from Lucius's feet. The Dark Lord was smiling.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked.

A trickle of blood ran down from the corner of Lucius's mouth, but he seemed not to notice. Narcissa took a shaky step backward as I involuntarily shuddered as his cold eyes ran over me. Without a word, he took out the wand he had been borrowing from my father when his broke and threw in at his feet. Out of thin air he held another, darker, older, and more beautiful than any wand I had ever seen. I felt myself being drawn to it, and I didn't know why.

He pointed it straight ahead, his arm stretched out to where I stood, my mother cowering behind me. _"Crucio."_

I shut my eyes, expecting to wither in agony and pain at any moment, but they snapped open again when Ashley's blood-curdling shriek beat my eardrums.

There was a sickening crack as I whirled to face her, but she was already tumbling down the stairs. She landed on her stomach and groaned in pain.

"A-Ashley-!"

_"Crucio!" _he screamed. "_Crucio Crucio Crucio Crucio!"_

"Stop it!" I yelled. No one could hear me over her screams.

The Dark Lord had a brutal gleam in his heartless eyes that told me he was enjoying this. He loved to hear her scream as she was tortured. Ashley's body was twisting and shriveling into contorted shapes.

"No!" I said, jabbing my wand forward. _"Deprimo!"_

The powerful wind knocked his hand down and forced the wand from his fingertips. It clattered to the floor. "You shouldn't have done that," he said, grinning like a maniac, advancing forward, his bare feet making not a sound on the cold tiled floor. He reached out his hand and the wand flew straight into it.

"M-My Lord," murmured Lucius, struggling to his feet.

"Draco," whispered Narcissa, gripping the back of my robes tightly. She was terrified. Ashley groaned on the floor.

"Now, now, Draco," taunted the Dark Lord, "I had planned on carrying out your punishment for your failure myself, but now I have a better idea." His smile filled with malice as he raised his wand once more, pointing it straight between my eyes. "Sleep well, Draco."

D~M~101~W's

_She'll be begging for death when you wake up._

My eyes shot open. I was staring at the floor. The house was silent. Something was wrong.

What had happened? My neck was stiff, and I groaned as I raised my head and sat up. When I could see the main hall of my house, my hand clamped over my mouth, forcing the bile back down as I willed myself not to be sick.

The blood was everywhere. The air stank like rotting flesh and iron. I held my breath as a natural reaction and scrambled to my feet. Red began at the bottom of the stairs, streaking and splattered in blotches across the floor and through several other rooms.

My mother, father, and Ashley were not in sight. The air was so still that I thought it would be a sin to make any kind of noise. And then she screamed.

My mind was numb, but I ran as fast as I could, following the trail of dark crimson. My foot slipped in the sticky liquid and I fell face forward into the blood with a sickening squelch. I threw up, not able to hold back anymore, and pushed myself back up to my feet.

The blood led me to the basement. I was scared. No, I was terrified. What I would find when I opened the door, I had no idea. All I knew was that I didn't want to know. It was silent once again in the house, save for the sound of my labored breathing and occasional retching. Hands trembling, I pushed open the door.

It was dark inside. I couldn't see anything further than the reach of my hand, but she could see me.

"Sorry," I heard a whisper.

I stumbled blindly into the dark. "Where are you?" I asked.

"S-sorry," she whispered. "I'm so-sorry."

She was in the corner, seated on the small wooden chair I had seen her use so often.

_"Lumos," _I muttered, and my wand lit up.

I felt like dying. There was a hole in her stomach, and I knew where the blood had come from. I fell to my knees when my legs gave out.

"No," I said.

"Draco," she whispered.

"It's my fault," I said. "I couldn't protect you and – No! Ashley!"

"I lied to you," she said, "When I said I'd never leave you."

I shook my head. "Shut up!" I muttered. "Don't say that,"

"He said he'd do it again," she whispered. "To your mother, father, friends, family. He'd do it again and again unless you…"

"Unless what?" I asked. I panicked. "Ashley, stop talking, I'm going to save you, so save your strength! I'll-!"

"Unless you kill me with your own hands," she whispered.

I stared at her.

"Draco," she coughed, "Kill me."

My head numbly shook a 'no'.

"I want to die by your hands," she said. "I want to s-save y-you!" She started to cry. "I w-want to s-save your f-family!"

"Ashley!" I wailed, my throat raw and sore. I had not cried since I was a child. The long buildup of tears spilled from my eyes in a single moment, shattering my stupor. I felt the fear take me – she was going to die. She was going to _die_, and it was all my fault. "Ashley, no!"

"Please!" she screamed. "It hurts so much, I want to die! I want you to end my pain! Let me protect you! I-I _love_ you!"

I went mad. I screamed in anguish and got to my feet, stepping away from her as fast as I could. Before I knew what was happening I had raised my wand.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

There was a boom and a blast of green so bright that I squinted against it. Then there was silence.

My wand clattered to the floor. I shut my eyes tightly and pushed my shaking hands over my ears to block out the echo of her last cry. I sank to the dungeon floor and cried out in agony.

Just as the Dark Lord had wanted, I had been punished. I had killed her.

**0.o Um, I've never done this before, but I cried when I was writing this. Uh, please review? Everything will lighten up from now on, I swear to you. I'll never write anything this dark again! I promise!**

**Panneler-san TT_TT**


	18. Take Five

**Next update! I do not own the Magical World of Harry Potter (wish I did!)**

_#18 – Take Five_

_ Men, the time has come for you to do what every man wants to do when faced with work._

_ Take a break._

_ Trust me, she can live without you for a few days. You can, too. Sure it's fun, sure you're having a blast messing with her, but then again maybe you're not. Perhaps you're tired of it all._

_ Taking a break from pursuing your female will not only give you peace of mind, but a physical calmness as well. You won't need to be on your toes at all times. You can just relax._

_ Rest – _

_Verb: Cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself, or recover strength._

_Noun: An instance or period of relaxing or ceasing to engage in strenuous or stressful activity._

_Stressful, indeed._

The worst part wasn't having killed her. It wasn't that I knew I'd been tricked into this whole mess. It wasn't knowing that my family was falling apart. It wasn't even that I couldn't hate the Dark Lord for doing this to me.

The worst part was that she came back.

I knew that people could choose to return to the earth after their death. I had told her so, and the idea had come to my mind the moment I knew I was going to kill her. She wouldn't have chosen so herself – she had told me that, although not religious, she did believe in Heaven.

It was where her mother was waiting for her, she told me. And now, where her father was as well. She thought ghosts were unnatural. She believed that one should move on. And despite knowing that, I did something unforgivable.

I forced her to return to my side.

The spell was ancient, naturally non-verbal, and one of the most difficult to cast. I had already known that I wasn't powerful enough to cast some spells. A Patronus, for example. I hated that Potter could cast one and I couldn't. I'd never told anyone, but I'd practiced. Never once did I get any type of result.

It didn't make much sense to me that I could manage to remember the spell at all, much less that it worked.

One moment Ashley was dead, lying in a pool of her blood before me, and the next she was standing behind me, clutching my robes and sobbing "Why, why, why?" over and over again.

_What have I done?_

She wasn't a ghost – not really. She was like a picture, an old picture that was fraying at the edges. Her painting was one I could jump into. I could feel her touch, hear her voice, but she wasn't really there. She was an apparition that was bound to me and the Earth until I fell in love with someone else.

And I would never do that.

I didn't think I could.

_October 24_

_1999_

It was early. We had stayed up all night, me telling her about everything. Now that the truth was in the open, I felt exposed. Naked.

Hermione gently pulled her hand away from mine. "Ashley's ghost is still here, isn't she?"

"This spell wasn't meant to be used on a whim," I said. "She's been fading recently. I don't ask her to come with me anywhere, so she doesn't follow me to school. I hadn't noticed but she's almost gone."

"So the spell you used to keep her here will break once you…" she trailed off.

_Once I admit to myself that I'm in love with you._

After a short, still silence, I stood up and brushed off my pants. "Ashley?" I called softly.

In a moment she was there, materializing before my eyes. Hermione flinched behind me. Ashley was starting to loose her color a little. Her image and presence wasn't nearly as strong.

But her smile was as life-changing as ever.

"I never told you," she said, "But I can make myself invisible to whoever I want. I wanted to see Hermione, though, so I let her see me."

I said nothing.

"I want to speak to her alone, if you don't mind," Ashley said quietly.

Before I knew it, Hermione had pushed me out of the room, shut the door, and locked it. I was horrified. What was going to happen? My dead ex-lover and a girl very much alive and infatuated with me were alone in a room, and I didn't know what was going on.

I waited and waited. Nothing happened. I didn't dare go to the kitchen to get myself water for fear of missing the moment the door would open. After almost an hour had passed and I was getting antsy, the hinges finally groaned in protest as the door swung open.

Hermione was crying. I only caught a glimpse of her face before she hid it from me and rushed blindly down the hall. Once she reached the end of it she paused, turning back around and calling quietly, "I'll be upstairs,"

I knew it was my turn. I entered the room and saw Ashley waiting for me, her face no longer smiling. "Hullo," she whispered.

I nodded, my throat tight.

She sighed. "You love her."

It wasn't a question, or even a statement. It was just a truthful pile of words to which I foolishly shook my head. "I love you," I said.

She nodded. "You do love me. That's why I'm here, isn't it? That's why I'm _still _here."

"What other proof do I need?" I asked. "I love you, that's why you haven't left me yet."

"I'm dying, Draco," she whispered. "Every day for the past two years I've felt as if I was dying. You're forgetting about me. I'm not a fool – you started those silly experiments with other women to try and forget about me. It didn't work."

It was true. I wanted to forget about her so, so much. "I'm a hypocrite," I whispered.

"And you know it," she said, smiling softly. "You know, I haven't told you this before now, because I'm a hypocrite, too. But I… I want you to forget about me."

My breathing hitched.

"Not completely," she continued. "I would be lying if I said I wanted you to stop loving me, but Draco, you have to realize that I'm smarter than I look, even though I am a Muggle."

I waited for her to tell me what she meant, and she did.

"Magic isn't immune to the human heart," Ashley whispered. "This spell will vanish if you love someone else, even if you still love me."

Ah.

So that was it.

That was the reason she was fraying away from my hands. It was just because I couldn't accept it.

"I'm leaving," she told me simply.

"Yeah," I replied softly. "Have a nice trip."

She crossed the floor as she began to fade, faster and faster with each step. It was the proof of my decision. She stood directly in front of me, murmured a small, "Thanks," pressed her lips to mine, and then she was gone.

I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see her disappear and felt a single tear make it past my barrier and roll down my cheek.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

_You're such a liar, Draco, _her playful last words echoed softly.

D~M~101~W's

I was in love with Hermione. I had been for weeks. This proved it. Ashle**y **was gone. I had fallen in love with another.

I was going to tell her right away – I'd ran up the stairs and burst into her room, excited and happy and uncharacteristically bright, but she was sleeping on the bed my mother had prepared for her, and I realized how foolish I must look. My grin toned down a few notches.

After all, why not?

Just because I liked her didn't mean she had to know yet. Not right now. I had to admit that after two years of grief, I deserved some sort of a break.

And Hermione looked very cute, indeed, while she snored lightly.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and gently ran my fingers through her hair and onto her back. She was on her stomach with her arms bent at the elbows around her, framing her upper body. Her face rested delicately against the pillow as she breathed. She looked so peaceful.

I deserved some sleep, too, I figured. I also needed to rest. I leaned down, pressed my lips to her forehead, lingering for a moment before I lay down next to her, draping my arm around her waist and hugging her closely to me as I closed my eyes.

"Sleep well, my love," I whispered.

Right then, right as I was about to achieve the highest, simplest form of bliss, the door slammed open and broke off its hinges. I jumped up, startled. Hermione jerked awake and rubbed her eyes.

"Draco, what-?"

"You're coming with me," the intruder growled, grabbing me by the collar and dragging me out of the door.

"Wh-what?" I cried angrily.

He didn't stop walking.

"What are you doing here?"

He froze abruptly at the bottom of the stairs near the entrance and ripped my sleeve upward, earning a gasp.

Hermione had followed us and my mother had been roused from her sleep because of the shouts. They stood together at the top of the stairs, frightened.

"Lucius!" cried my mother.

"This is what you are!" he hissed, digging his fingers into the dark mark on my arm.

I gasped in pain and tried to yank away.

"You won't ever be able to escape it! I'm taking my son, Narcissa. The Ministry has granted me full custody until his birthday next month. This mark binds you to me, Draco!"

"Draco!" my mother called after me, and I caught a glimpse of Hermione's distressed face before Lucius turned sharply, violently, and the world swirled and disappeared around me.

**Next Arc! Guesses as to what's happening? Tell me in a review!**

**Pan-tan **:)


	19. MAKE Her Miss You

**I'm updating!**

**Me: Mrs. Rowling?**

**JK: What is it, Panneler-san?**

**Me: Um, well, you see, I need to borrow Harry again-**

**JK: AVADA KEDAVRA!**

**(I wasn't harmed in making this disclaimer)**

_#19 – MAKE Her Miss You_

_ She WILL think about you, guaranteed. The longer you stay away, the more she thinks._

_ What is he doing?_

_ Is he all right?_

_ Is he having fun?_

_ Is he thinking about me?_

_ Does he miss me?_

_ We shall direct her line of thought to a more up-front thought process. For example, we must not have her thinking about us, but about herself. No, really._

_ I miss him._

_ I want him to come back._

_ I want him to think about me._

_ I want him to miss me._

_ I really miss him._

_ Understand? Several different methods can be used in creating this specific line of thoughts. One such way is to let her know that you've been thinking about her. Send her a note. Write it in class and slip it into her bag when she isn't looking so she'll find it later._

_ Try to catch her eye when you pass her on the street or in the corridors. If you are on vacation, write her a letter or send her a postcard. She will indeed be pleasantly surprised, and only good results can come of that._

_ As per usual, be subtle. I know, all this subtleness is annoying and you just want to come out and scream "Sleep with me!" but this is for the greater good. Fooling around is, as the Americans say, awesome._

_ Good luck._

_Dear Hermione_,

I should have written you last week, but I was busy with the Healing class that Lucius put me in. I'm the top student, and I'll have you know that not even you could beat my test scores. How is my mum? Just a reminder, but you shouldn't let her cook anything.

I'm glad that you're still at the Manor. It eases my mind to know that it's you taking care of my home and looking after my family. I really am sorry, but I can't make it back for dinner on the 31st like you wanted. The earliest I could come visit is Sunday.

I'll see you then,

_ Draco_

_Dear Draco_,

I must admit that I'm disappointed that you can't make Halloween dinner. I've been planning it for days now. You've been with your dad for three days now, and your mum is getting anxious. She misses you loads.

So, not even I could beat your test scores, hm? Well, for once I'm sure that's true. I'm delighted that you're doing so well in class. It's not quite the same as Hogwarts, though, is it?

I miss school, I'll admit that. I left on a whim. I admit that, too, but I don't regret my decision. That was a lie, actually. I really want to finish my education, but Professor McGonagall told me that I've already completed the required credit classes to graduate, and even have enough to last me half-way into a University. I don't need to go back, but I want to.

I suppose I'll see you on Sunday, then.

_ Hermione_

_Dear Hermione_,

I'm sorry I don't have lots of time to write to you today, but I have homework. I wanted to let you know that my mum likes spiced pumpkin juice in the evenings, and she's had a rough time lately. Will you make it for her?

_Dear Draco_,

This should reach you today, I think. I don't know the recipe for spiced pumpkin juice. Will you send it to me?

_ Hermione_

_Dear Draco,_

I haven't gotten a reply from you yet, and it's been two days. Tomorrow is Halloween. I know you can't make it to dinner, but if your plans change, please let me know.

Hermione

_Dear Draco_,

You didn't show up on Sunday. I'm worried. Are you all right? Nothing bad has happened to you, has it? Please drop me a line.

_Hermione_

_Draco_,

It's November 6th. I haven't heard from you. Please tell me what's going on.

_Hermione_

_Draco,_

It's the 10th today. Are you hurt? Contact me.

_Hermione_

Draco, I'm scared. I miss you. Where are you?

_H.G_

Meet me in Knockturn Alley tonight.

_ D.M_

I waited, leaning against a wall inside some shop that smelled like the wrong end of a Hippogriff and sold green, slimy looking things in jars. My cloak was wrapped tightly around me. I wore the hood to hide my face.

A bell chimed softly as the door was opened, and she stepped inside. I almost groaned. She was wearing a bright red scarf that was not inconspicuous at all. She looked too bright, and I could see the grubby shopkeeper eye her with disdain.

Hermione looked around nervously, twiddling her thumbs through a worn pair of matching gloves. Briskly, I walked over to her and grabbed her hand. She squeaked in surprise and the shopkeeper's scowl turned into a glare.

"Quiet," I whispered, pulling her along behind me as we walked to the back. The door to the back room was open and I gave the shopkeeper one, appreciative glance and a nod as we went inside and I closed the door.

Hermione glanced around the back room which was full of stacked boxes and dirty jars.

"I'm glad you came," I said quietly, pulling my hood off my head, revealing my face. "I was worried you wouldn't find-"

Hermione pulled me into a tight hug and buried her face in my vest and cloak. "Draco," she whispered.

She was shaking. I sighed and wrapped my arms around her. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

"Where have you been?" she sobbed. "I was so frightened – I was so worried about you!"

"I'm fine, I'm not hurt. I've been…" I searched for a word to use. "Busy."

"You arse," she sniffed. "Busy? That's your excuse? You arse."

She pulled away from me and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her cloak. I sighed. "Listen, Hermione, Lucius has been stopping my letters."

Her sniffles grew quiet.

"The Ministry granted him full custody of me until I turn seventeen. That's going to be on the twenty-fourth. He's trying to reset my mind."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"He's been pouring lies into my head," I growled. "He says that it isn't his fault that he and mum divorced. He said that it was her fault, that she was the one who caused it. He's been telling me that Mudbloods and Muggles don't deserve to live." I scowled at Hermione's feet. "He should have known that was going too far with me."

Hermione looked crestfallen, suddenly. "Yes, of course," she said. "He should have known that."

"I had to get away from him," I said. "I couldn't go back home. He'd claim it was my mum's doing and get her in trouble. He wouldn't let me leave the house, but I stole some of his Flu Powder and made it here. I-I had to see you…"

"Why didn't you just call Ashley?" she asked.

I blinked.

"Ashley could have gone to comfort you. You don't need me anyway." She shook her head. "I have to go."

"Hermione, wait!" I called, reaching out to grab her before she could leave, "Wait! I forgot to tell you-"

"You don't need to explain," she said, shoving me away from her. Tears glistened in her eyes. "I understand."

"What are you talking about?" I hissed.

"You've chosen her!" she cried. "I knew that you didn't love me, _Malfoy_, but I followed you anyway in the hopes that I could change your mind!" She laughed bitterly. "What a fool I was!"

"Listen to-!"

"She told me herself that your heart didn't easily change," she continued. "Ashley gave me her blessing, as well, but in the end I couldn't change your mind! I can't live like this, Malfoy! If you don't like me, I don't see the point in staying with-!"

"Ashley has moved on!" I shouted.

Hermione stilled. I stilled. Everything stilled, as if the very air was holding its breath. Hermione exhaled. "You…you're lying…"

"No," I shook my head. "I needed to see you, Hermione, not Ashley. She's gone. The spell broke."

"The…spell…" she whispered, her eyes large and round. "Then…if its broken, then that means that-!"

She gasped and her hands flew up to cover her mouth. She shook her head, as if she didn't believe me. I smiled. "Hermione," I said, "You can kiss me, now."

And kiss me she did.

**Wow, I have over 300 reviews… LET'S AIM FOR 400!**

**Panneler-san**


	20. Reunion

**I'm sorry. School kicked my ass, and then I got infected by lazy and then got bit by the original novel bug. I won't ask you to forgive me. But please, enjoy the chapter.**

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

_#20 – Reunion_

_ The time to reunite has come. This must be approached in a solemn manner, with many whispered assurances that you will never be apart that long again. Getting back together is the perfect time to drop the subtle act that I've had you practice since the beginning chapters._

_ In chapter 17 we discovered the benefits of the Like VS Love concept. At this point in time, if the female desired in your heart has told you that she intends to date you, then the choice path to go down this time is Love._

_ Go somewhere with her. Make sure it's a quiet, beautiful atmosphere. Be bold; grab her hand while you walk. Sit down somewhere warm, because the cold air will completely ruin the mood. I speak from experience._

_ Now, this is the tricky part: you have to interrupt her. This is dangerous, and could have a disastrous effect if done improperly. To avoid this, word choice is imperative. YOU MUST MAKE A CONNECTION WITH HER THROUGH A PROFOUND STATEMENT._

_ If words fail you, my man, refer back to chapter 6, Pounce. Actions will suffice in such a situation, but in this case, they do not need to be subtle at all. Rather the opposite, really._

_ Carry on._

We held hands when we walked down the street. Hermione's hands were cold; she wasn't wearing gloves. She said nothing, instead gazing hazy-eyed ahead of her, a look of wonder on her face. I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

When I put our entwined hands into the pocket of my cloak she gasped quietly, breaking out of her trance and turning her head in my direction. I smiled. "Better?"

Her cheeks flushed a pale pink that looked very pretty on her and she lowered her eyes to the ground, nodding once. "Hmm."

As we passed several small groups of older Witches gossiping and giggling at display windows that sparkled with newfound Christmas decorations, I let out a loud, uncharacteristic breath. "Thirteen."

Hermione's eyebrows scrunched together. "What?"

I grinned. "Days till my birthday. Unlucky number…"

"What do you want?" she asked. "I'll buy it for you."

"Will you? Anything I want?"

She bit her lip. "Within reason, of course…"

"I dunno," I said. "I'll let you know if I think of anything."

We walked for hours, up out of Diagon Alley and into a large but frosted plain of grass. Hermione gripped my hand tighter. "The sun makes this place really warm," she whispered. "I was always in a hurry at Diagon Alley, so I didn't know there was a place like this at the top of the hill."

I raised my free hand and pointed out over the vast and empty plain, where the sun was beginning to set. "Hogwarts is that way," I said. "It's really far away from here, but I feel a lot closer to it than usual."

She suddenly became quiet.

"Hermione?"

"I want to go back," she whispered.

I stared at her.

"I do regret leaving. I don't care if I've already graduated or something dumb like that – I don't care that I'm repeating the year I missed while I was with Harry and Ron. I don't mind that there are lots of painful memories there. Because-!"

She gripped my hand even tighter, and I responded, waiting for her to finish.

"Because there are so many, many good memories, too. I don't regret coming after you! I'm glad that I did. I'm very…satisfied. And if I wasn't here, who would cook for your mum?" She sniffed, and sniffed again. "There isn't anything for me at Hogwarts but memories. But I don't mind. My happiest memories were when I was with Harry and Ron…"

I held my breath.

"…and you. It doesn't feel right, just leaving it unfinished. I feel like I'm ignoring our past, both the good and the bad. And I want to remember all of i-"

"I love you," I said.

Hermione stared. "Huh?"

"I love you," I repeated, placing my free hand on her pink cheek. "I've loved you for such a long time. I don't know when it started – I don't know how it happened – but I love you. It took me such a long time to realize it because I've been lying to myself this whole time."

Hermione bit her lip. "You've…never told me this before."

"You knew it, didn't you?" I asked. "Why do you look so uncertain?"

She shook her head. "No, it's that this is the first time you've said this to me. I'm…I'm really happy,"

I brushed my thumb over her cheek. "You're very warm," I whispered.

She flushed deeper. "T-that's because," she said quietly as she began to stand on the tips of her toes, "you love me, and you're holding me like this…Who wouldn't…blush a little?"

We kissed for the second time that day, but it felt like the first kiss we had ever shared. Hermione's lips were chapped, as were my own, and kissing hurt a little, but it was cold and she was warm, so we decided to kiss one more time.

And once more after that.

D~M~101~W's

"The wedding is approaching," said Lucius.

I glared at my feet, halfway through the threshold of my father's doorway. The frost from outside nearly reached the carpet of the living room rug.

"And your Healing finals. What are you thinking, skipping your class and duties at such an important time? Do you know how hard it was, getting you into a class that could register you as a Healer in only a month? Do you realize what an inconvenience you've caused Maria because of your absence from your responsibilities in organizing the wedding events? How much more do you plan to humiliate me, Draco?"

I didn't move.

He stared at me for a moment, then let out a short laugh that sounded more like a bark. "Have you no respect for me? For the father you once worshipped?"

"You told me that you only had one son," I spat. "I'm not that son. So you're not my father. I don't have to do anything you tell me to." I pushed past him and into the house I hated, slamming the door behind me as I did.

"I am the only reason you aren't rotting in a cell in Azkaban right now!" Lucius hissed.

I froze again.

"If I hadn't saved your life during the Battle of Hogwarts, you would have been labeled a traitor by those Mudblood-loving insects you've grown so fond of! They would have tossed you in prison without a glance in your direction! You owe me your freedom!"

I clenched my teeth so hard, I was sure they would fall out once I released them. "In sixth year," I said, "I was very angry because you were in Azkaban. I thought it was all the Order's fault. I broke Potter's nose defending you – I'll have to remember to apologize to him."

My face stung when he slapped it. I ignored his livid face and stomped down the breaking wooden staircase to my personal prison. In this house I felt trapped no matter where I was. Pretending I couldn't hear his enraged shouting at my back, I locked my door behind me.

I crossed straight to the tiny desk in the corner and seized a piece of parchment and quill. In a moment the message was written, tied to the leg of my owl, and released up the fireplace chimney next to the desk. He didn't like the soot, but there were no windows in my new jail, and I couldn't risk going back upstairs after provoking Lucius.

I managed to sleep easy, knowing that in just a few hours, my message was going to be read.

_Blaise – Feel like skipping some school? I need a third wheel for my birthday._

**The return of Zabina! Next time! Drop a review if you can. I love reviews, and you'll go on my favorite-people-ever list if you do review :)**

**Thanks!**


	21. Furthered Relations

**I wish it was Christmas, already… Bugger…**

**I don't own HP, as per usual.**

_#21 – "Furthered" Relations_

_ It isn't a good idea to rush things, at this point. Most women like to know that they're being fancied, but if the physical side of the relationship moves too quickly, she may tend to think that you're just trying to – as the saying goes – get into her pants._

_ Although physical contact is a good starter for any date, make it brief. It'll drive you crazy, but it will all be worth it. To avoid the above-mentioned thought process, we will branch off of the idea that comes with a furthered relationship – meeting friends, family, co-workers, employers, and whoever else you might respect greatly._

_ This does not mean you are going to propose to her. No way. But here's the beauty of the thing; it will mean that to her. Meeting the parents usually points to a furthered relationship, which points to the male being serious. This means that physical contact will become a more relevant aspect to the relationship._

_ And that means that contact will be initiated by the woman._

_ Take her out for a holiday and have her formerly meet someone you respect, and the rewards will be great. Prepare for this by telling this someone she will meet about her, and give a good impression._

_ Next, we deal with setting up for the meeting. Good luck._

Six days, fourteen hours, and fifty-three minutes until I was free.

With nothing else to do, I spent my time counting. It. Was. So. Boring.

I'd already written to Hermione, explaining that I was practically on house arrest, and sent the same message to my mum and Blaise. I'd already tried escaping up the stairs, only to have my Lucius's stupid house elf refuse to let me pass. I'd tried climbing up the chimney, even, but then I remembered that Malfoy's did not climb chimneys.

So I sat there and counted.

Six days, fourteen hours, and fifty-two minutes until I was free.

Bugger.

There was a soft knock at my door and shuffling of nervous feet. I felt my expression darken.

"Draco?" a tiny voice called. "Can I come in?"

I said nothing.

"Draaaaacooooo?" the voice whined. "Open the doooooor!"

I closed my eyes.

There was a huff of impatience. "Then, I'm coming in!"

I reached for my wand to lock the door from my desk, but remembered that Lucius had taken it away from me. I was no good at nonverbal magic.

_Damn._

The door opened a crack and the face of a child popped inside. "You are here!" she said.

"What do you want, Ursula?" I asked.

She blinked her large eyes at me and shuffled inside, closing the door behind her and fidgeting with her feet. "Mum is shopping and dad is gone to work, I think," she said. "I – um – wanted to play with you."

"How old are you now?"

She took a second to count, a look of utmost concentration on her face as she tapped a finger for each year. "Uh, four!"

"You don't know how to play by yourself?"

Her face fell. I felt guilty, but anger blinded me to apathy. "Hm, okay," she mumbled. "Can I just stay here, then?"

She waited for no answer. Ursula rushed across the room and jumped on my bed, grabbing the sheets in her tiny hands and pulling them up to her chin. I returned to counting.

Six days, fourteen hours, and forty-six minutes till I was free.

She couldn't stay silent for long. "Draco? Aren't you my brother?"

"We're only half-siblings."

She sniffed. "If half of you is my brother, then is only half of me your sister?"

I stared at my hands. "Don't be ridiculous."

The second silence was even shorter. "Draco?"

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

I tried to say yes. I wanted to say yes. "No."

"Then, do you hate mum?"

"No."

"Dad?"

"Why are you asking?" I growled.

She pulled the sheets closer to her blue eyes. "Sometimes it seems like you hate it here," she said. "I thought it might be my fault."

It was. But I couldn't tell her that.

"I get to be a flower girl on Monday!" she said proudly. "Mum was saying how happy it would make her if you would come see me be a flower girl, but dad said you didn't want to come. But, Draco, you're coming to the wedding, aren't you?"

I had forgotten.

Two days, fourteen hours, and thirty minutes till Lucius remarried.

I had forgotten.

"Probably not," I replied curtly.

Ursula looked down. "Oh."

I thought of Hermione. Did she even know that he was marrying another woman? Did she know that Ursula was the child that had ended my mother's marriage? I was resentful toward Ursula, that much was true. I didn't hate her.

But I didn't love her, either.

An idea suddenly hit me.

"Ursula," I said, spinning in my chair to face her, "Do you still want to play?"

Her face lit up. "Yes!" she cried, jumping out of bed.

"Listen to me very carefully, then," I said. I had her utmost attention in less than a second. "Go upstairs to your dad's room and get some Flu Powder in each hand. Bring it down here, and don't drop any!"

She smiled hugely. "Okay! Wait just a second!"

She bolted for the door, her little feet bare, and I could hear her as she ran all the way up the stairs of the tiny house and back down, two large fistfuls of Flu Powder in each palm. "What are we doing?"

"We're going on a trip," I said. "Have you used the Flu network before?"

She shook her head.

"Give me half of it," I said. She handed it off to me. "You say the place you want to go, toss it into the fire, and step inside. Then you're there."

"Where are we going?"

I grinned. "We're going to visit my girlfriend. Follow after me, and say exactly what I say, okay?"

She nodded once, a fierce look of determination on her face.

I stepped toward the fireplace, where the logs were beginning to burn low, and tossed the handful of powder into it. "Malfoy Manor!"

I vanished into the swirls of green smoke and flame, feeling the familiar and entirely uncomfortable tug at my navel. In less than a second, I was stepping out of the tall, black marble hearth in my real home.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

There was a pop from the fire behind me, and out tumbled Ursula, a long streak of soot across her pink face. "That was fun!" she cried.

I couldn't help but smirk.

"Draco?"

When I saw Hermione I burst out laughing.

She was covered in dust and flower and smelled strongly of cleanser from head to toe. A bright pink cloth tied under her chin, hiding her hair and forcing it to bush outward in the back as if she'd been electrocuted. She wore my mother's silk black apron (mum had never put it on), her feet bare and those things she called jeans rolled up to her knees in a most unflattering fashion.

To top it all off, my mum walked through the door a second later in the exact same getup.

I cracked up.

Narcissa frowned. "Don't be rude," she snapped.

I clutched my sides, heaving for air. Ursula didn't really understand what was going on, but she started laughing, too. Hermione frowned. If not for her hair, she'd have looked exactly like my mum. "Why are you dressed like that?" I wheezed.

"Hermione is teaching me how to do the housework," said Narcissa.

"Who is this?" Hermione asked, peering at Ursula.

Narcissa's eyes fell onto the tiny child, and her face became expressionless. "Draco, why did you bring her here?" she asked quietly.

"I wanted to visit you two but I couldn't leave her home alone, so I brought her along," I explained. "Her parents are out,"

Ursula spoke up. "You mean _our_ parents," she said.

Hermione looked at me.

"No, your parents, Ursula," I said.

"Draco," Narcissa warned.

"I know. Don't worry."

Ursula was with Narcissa in the kitchen. It was Hermione's idea that she test her cooking skills and make a cup of cocoa for her, and so we were left alone.

"Your sister?" she asked.

I leaned against the bannister, my hands in the pockets of my robes. "Half-sister, by blood. She's my father's child."

"I knew that Lucius had an affair," she explained slowly, "I didn't know about this."

"Everyone knows about the affair. No one knows about Ursula. She's making her official first public appearance on Monday, at her mother and Lucius's wedding."

"Are you going to go?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I don't want to. But because it happens before my birthday, if he orders me to go, then I have to."

The clear sound of Ursula's laughter floated out of the kitchen. Hermione glanced in the direction. "Will Narcissa be okay? I mean, with her…"

"She doesn't hate the sin. Only the sinners."

Hermione sighed in relief. She reached for my hand. "Your mother," she murmured, "Was never cut out to be a Death Eater. She's too kind."

I smiled. "She wasn't always this nice, really. She was a right prat when I was small… But I think the war changed her. Especially that time with…" I trailed off, letting my eyes wander up the hand holding mine. Underneath the sleeve of her robes, I knew there was still a scar.

She seemed to notice where I looked. "Um," she said uncomfortably, "I made lunch, if you want some."

I couldn't help squeezing her hand. "I do," I said.

Hermione hesitated a second before reaching up on her tip-toes to press a kiss to my lips. My grin had never been larger.

Narcissa shrieked, and we broke apart.

"Mum?"

We were in the kitchen in less than a second. She was backed up against the counter, clutching Ursula to her by her shoulders, both facing the large, silvery Patronus in the shape of a black bear. Narcissa exhaled. "It startled me!" she said. "It suddenly came into the room."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Ursula looked at the bear for several seconds and said, "That's mummy's."

Hermione held her breath.

Ursula never took her eyes off of it. "That's mummy's Patronus. She said she only uses it in emergencies."

Cued, the Patronus spoke, its voice great but terrified.

"_Draco, come home! Ursula is missing and Lucius is hurt! Help me, Draco, he's bleeding, I don't know what to do!"_

The silvery Apparition melted away. Narcissa stood with her hands clamped over her mouth. Hermione stared at me in horror. I didn't dare move.

_Draco, come home!_

"That was Maria's voice," I whispered. "Ursula's mum."

It was all I could say.

"Draco," said Hermione urgently, "Go!"

I was numb.

_Help me, Draco, he's bleeding!_

I clumsily turned on the spot, my presence swirling into the nothingness that was aparation, and I could only think of one thing.

_Lucius is hurt!_

I wasn't sure I could feel anything _but_ numb.

**That was one freaking long chapter. I was trying to split it into two parts, but it wanted to stay as one chapter, so there you have it!**

**MERRY ALMOST CHRISTMAS! I have a poll up on my profile page. Please go vote before the 22****nd****, as I will close the poll on that date.**

**LOVE YOU, REVIEWERS! You guys are amazing! I'm almost at 400 reviews!**

**Panneler-san**


	22. The SetUp

**Happy 2012! What better way to start the year than with more chapter warnings?**

**Chapter warnings: Gore, strong language, evilness, mystery, and excitement!**

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

_#22 – The Set-Up_

_ Here, we continue the fine art of pursuing a maiden's heart. Here, we create what I like to call "coincidences". Yeah?_

_ So, perhaps your target has a past with your family. Perhaps she does not. Doesn't really matter, because she'll want them to like her regardless of an ill-advised past. It was once said in a famous Muggle play that when wanting to take a wife, the aspiring husband must agree with the bride's mother in religion, and in politics with her father. It's actually pretty good advice._

_ Nevertheless, and all family relations aside, do just that. SET family relationships with her aside. She may already be very good friends with one or two, that never hurts. But there is always someone who will disapprove, and that is the person you want to keep shrouded in mystery._

_ Girls love a good challenge. Even the more timid ones won't admit it, but they like to be spontaneous every now and again. It keeps them unpredictable, and they love that control they can have over us men because of it._

_ After being repeatedly denied the opportunity to lift some of the mystery from the disapproving person(s) of your family she may get frustrated and try seeking him or her out by herself. We must stay one step ahead of them. Out of the blue, invite her to visit them with you. This catches her off guard, which will be good for the meeting in which we shall discuss in the next chapter._

_ Chin up, now. Pip pip._

It was the first time I'd ever Splinched. Luckily, I had remembered the moment I apparated that the house had wards on it. Acting as fast as I could, I thought of somewhere else, anywhere else. But it was too late.

I hit the wards right at the moment that I changed my destination. For a moment the house I hated was clear – it looked the same as always – and the next it had vanished again, only this time, taking something of my own with it.

It wasn't the worst physical pain I had ever felt, but I would rank it among the top three. I landed hard on my right shoulder, in a place I'd never seen, and a fleeting thought crossed my mind that I'd once found funny. Hermione told me when we were still at school that Weasley had Splinched himself and lost two fingernails.

Ironic, how that was what I thought of as I stared at the place my right hand had once been. "Damn it!" I screamed. It hurt. I looked around, but all I saw was dirt and leaves. How could I have made such a stupid mistake?

It was all Lucius's fault, getting my emotions so out of whack that I couldn't remember a simple thing. Honestly, I was lucky all I had lost was a hand, and I knew it. If I hadn't regained my senses and switched course, I would have been dead.

"Damn it!" I screamed again, fumbling clumsily with my remaining hand for my wand. Now there were two people dying. When I finally managed to get ahold of my wand all I could do for myself was to wrap some conjured bandages around the stump and mutter a spell to stop the bleeding.

I had to find him.

"Where the hell am I?" I hissed, fighting to stay in charge of my senses. I realized just a moment later that it didn't matter where I was – I could leave. The idea of appataring twice seemed an unpleasant one, but it was my only option. Either risk splinching my leg or stay here, lost, alone, and bleeding to death, just like my father.

I felt numb again, and I wasn't sure if it was because I'd just lost my hand or that I'd remembered my father was dying. So, I had only one option. This time, I'd keep the wards in mind. I hissed as I stumbled back to my feet. Maybe it _was_ the worst pain I'd ever felt.

I took a second to catch my breath and without looking at the stub, turned on the spot. I felt sick, flying through the nothingness. I didn't even bother to keep myself on my feet when I reappeared thirty meters from the miserable place. Getting back up was a chore, though. I stumbled forward all the way up to the front door and, unwilling to take the pressure of my left hand off of my right wrist, promptly rang the bell with my teeth.

The door opened instantly, and the woman I hated nearly as much as my father stood trembling in fear and sweating in anxiety.

"Draco!" she cried, her eyes instantly drawn to the missing part of my body. "Oh my God, what happened to you?"

"Where is he?" I asked.

I had always known she was cold-hearted, but it still hurt seeing her completely forget about me in a heartbeat. "Come inside!" she hissed, shutting the door behind me.

He was in his bedroom, lying on the floor, lying in blood. What scared me wasn't that Lucius's eyes were closed, the blood that seemed to pour from nowhere, or the way I didn't know what I could do for him with only one hand.

It was the hole in his stomach.

The same shape and place as Ashley.

It all looked too familiar. I didn't get it. A coincidence? And yet…

"Oh, hurry, help him, please!" Maria whined, tears in her eyes.

I snapped back to my senses. "I need potions, hurry to the pantry and bring me everything there is. Quickly!"

Thirty-seven seconds later my lap was full of brightly colored bottles. I kneeled next to Lucius and bit into one of the corks of the potion, opening the bottle.

"Get someone here from Saint Mungo's!" I yelled as I unsteadily poured the liquid into his open mouth and dropped the bottle to the floor to retrieve my wand and mutter a swallowing spell.

Maria was shuffling from foot to foot, being completely useless. "A-alright!" she called, and raced from the room.

"I know you're conscious," I said.

His eyes flittered open.

"What happened to you?"

His lips trembled, but no sound came out.

"So you went mute from the shock, huh?" I murmured. My left hand trembled , but I hid my fear and muttered another spell. The steady flow of red slowed, and I enchanted more bandaged to wrap around his middle. "I'd usually say it was a good thing you shut your trap, but in this case it isn't. Maria is calling someone from Saint Mungo's. You'll be fine soon."

From the way he looked up at me, I could tell he knew I was lying. But we both ignored it, for our own sakes. From outside the miserable house I heard a crack, and then thundering footsteps of five Healers followed Maria into the house.

They all collectively gasped at the sight we had to offer. A more rational-looking one stepped forward. "Madam, please lift the wards immediately so we can transport him to St. Mungo's directly."

She waved her wand, also smeared with Lucius's blood, and nodded, the tears swarming in her eyes. "Okay!"

Somehow, I was pulled along for the ride, and all eight of us caused quite a scene in the lobby of the building. Finally, the pain really caught up with me. It was _definitely_ the worst pain I'd felt. "Shit!" I screamed when one of the Healers bumped into my wrist.

"What's this?" the Healer asked. "Oh, my! You're hurt as well! Take the older one up to the fourth floor and begin the counter curse immediately! I'll get this one into Artefact Accidents."

And then the whole damn thing became too much for me to handle, and – even if I was a Malfoy – I allowed myself to pass out.

D~M~101~W's

"Oh, do calm down, Granger. Look at him! Rosy cheeks and all – I wager he'll be right as rain quite soon."

"Are you sure? I don't know…"

"He only Splinched! I mean, _only_ does refer to the loss of his right hand, but it's the idiot's own fault that he moved from the appartion point. Everyone knows that you're not supposed to move. Cheeky git."

A voice incredibly identical to Hermione's let out a dry sob.

"D-don't cry! Godric, look, Granger, he's fine! Splinching isn't life-threatening! Although I do wonder who taught him to be such a moron. What great, bumbling idiot tries to apparate into a house set up with wards?"

"Hermione," I mumbled. The room went dead silent. "Tell Blaise to shut his annoying mouth before I have to wake up and kick his arse."

I was promptly shaken awake by an enthusiastic and slightly guilty-looking Blaise. I squinted against the huge amount of light that poured into my eyes. "Draco!" cried Blaise. "My dearest, brave, kind friend!"

"Oh, shut up," I hissed, shaking him off but smiling so he knew for sure I wasn't angry at him. It was hard to tell when it was me.

Hermione helped me sit up and grinned at me. "I was so worried," she explained, as if I hadn't heard her sob moments before. Or, had I?

My vision went blurry suddenly, and I closed my eyes to gain my bearings. What _had_ just happened?

"Draco?"

"Just a second," I said. "I'm a bit dizzy."

They waited, their breath held in anticipation.

I decided to remember in pieces. "Where are we?"

"Saint Mungo's," said Blaise. "Your Mum is talking to the Healer. You, uh, collapsed."

Saint Mungo's? I could remember being at home, with Hermione. What had happened then? "Maria's Patronus," I muttered. Lucius was hurt. I had to save him. I was numb. I had apparated.

And then…

My eyes snapped open and I turned my head with a nigh violent force to look at my right arm. I had never felt relief greater than seeing my hand attached firmly to my wrist, only a thin white scar to show it had ever been missing.

"Oh, good," I breathed. "I was almost scared for a moment."

Blaise smirked. "Did you think we'd have left your hand outside your dad's house? Really, now, Draco. A Malfoy must never be without his dominant hand. _Or_ move like a moron from the apparation point when Splinched."

I ignored his rude remark. "I'm glad I got to keep it. And, er, how is…?"

Hermione took my hand and squeezed it. "The Healer said you saved his life, Draco. He's going to be fine after some rest."

I wasn't sure how I felt. What was I supposed to feel in a situation like this? Certainly not pride. Not anger. But not happiness or relief, either. So I decided to be indifferent. "Blaise," I said, switching the topic forcefully, "What in Merlin's good name are you doing here?"

He looked genuinely surprised. "You invited me," he said.

"The invitation was for my birthday."

"What's wrong with coming a few days early?" he asked, leaning back in his chair. "And anyway, I thought I'd hang around until you get discharged. You'll be glad to know the Wedding has been pushed back."

I blinked. "What?"

"Narcissa told me," Hermione continued. "Because Lucius was so severely injured, they've pushed it back a week or so till he heals up."

"A-a week?"

"It's going to be after your birthday, mate," said Blaise, clapping me on the back. "Congratulations! You aren't legally obligated to go, anymore. I even doubt that the old bugger will be out of here by your birthday…"

"How long was I asleep?" I asked.

"Just about twenty hours," said Hermione. "From what I heard, putting you back together took a fair bit of time, too. Because you _did_, Draco, _move from the apparation point_!"

Oh. She was mad at me.

"That isn't terribly important at the moment, though," Blaise suddenly interrupted. "When did _that_ happen?"

When it dawned on me that Blaise was referring to Hermione's hands still tightly gripping mine, it was too late to be indifferent. Hermione shrank back unnaturally fast, her face bright red. I was horrified to feel my own cheeks flush a little. Malfoy's did not flush.

Judging by the color of my face, I thought, perhaps I wasn't a Malfoy after all.

Blaise grinned at our reactions. "So," he said, "What's for lunch?"

**So, the Lucius Arc came to a sudden end, but it hasn't, really. Know what I mean? It's on hold, is the best way to describe it. Next Arc! Er, or Lucius Arc part B! Whatever you wish to call it. I have everything planned out and I'm excited because I know all about it and you…..well, don't :P Please drop in a review if you love ice cream! And if you don't like ice cream, do it for Harry! Thanks!**


	23. Meeting the Parents

**I apologize for the wait. I was busy :o**

**I don't own Harry Potter~**

_#23 – Meeting the Parents_

_ Or meeting your family, whichever is appropriate. Perhaps you are gathering for a family event. Who knows, maybe it's a holiday. In any case, this could be big. To convince a girl you like her (or want to snog) you must create the impression that you truly are serious about her._

_ This is the last step before we can talk about more…point-worthy matters. The remainder of this guide shall be filled with little tips and tricks that you will be very glad you know. But for now, focus on the meeting._

_ If you are meeting her parents, be nothing but a gentleman. If they ask you questions like "Do you smoke?" "How many girlfriends have you had?" "Do you have a bad family history?" "What religion are you?"_

_ Answer with what they want to hear. Do NOT be truthful._

_ "I have never smoked and I do not intent to." "I've only really had one other girlfriend, but it ended quickly because she just wasn't your daughter." "My parents are happily married and I am an only child." "Of course, madam, the same religion as you!"_

_ It's so easy to trick old folks. However, if she is meeting your parents, you must not let her say a single word. You must make her sound perfect because a) your parents will not suspect you are up to no good and b)She will be flattered beyond belief. If your parents ask her if she loves you, let her answer that one. It's a good way to gage how far you are on the path._

_ Good luck._

The toothbrush clattered to the bottom of the sink. I stared at it. It lay there.

"Draco?" Hermione called from inside the hospital room. "Where are you?"

"The loo," I replied, eyes glued to the toothbrush.

"Oh. Well, Blaise and I are going to get lunch in the cafeteria. Do you think you can come?"

"I-I think I'll stay in my room today," I called out. My throat felt dry.

"Good idea," said Hermione. "After all, you are getting discharged this evening. It's better that you rest now before your Healing finals next week."

There was a shuffle of feet, the swish of a cloak, and the door to my room shut tight. I swallowed. Slowly, I raised my hand and reached for the toothbrush. My fingers closed around it easily. I breathed a sigh of relief and brought it back to my mouth.

It was only after the Healer brought me my lunch that I began to regret not going down with Hermione and Blaise. I ate the stone cold pumpkin stew grudgingly and took the potions I had been prescribed. Glancing out the window, I yawned and stretched.

In the evening, Hermione and Blaise came back to see me. "What do you want for your birthday, Mate?" asked Blaise. "It's in just a few days, after all."

"It's tomorrow," I relied coldly. "Are we really friends?"  
Hermione laughed. "I reserved three seats at a restaurant for us," she said. "I thought we could celebrate a little."

I frowned. "Three?"

Blaise grinned. "This will be so much fun!" he cried. "The three of us, hanging out on Draco-kin's birthday!"

I smiled and shook my head.

"Anyway, how is your hand?" Hermione asked.

I swallowed again. "It's fine," I said. "I think the potions they're giving me to dull the pain kind of make me freeze up. It should be fine once it heals completely, though."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad," she admitted. "I was worried that since you Splinched through it, the Healers may not have been able to fix it."

I grinned. "Silly Muggle."

She frowned. "I'm not a Muggle…"

At seven, I was finally discharged. The Healer hummed as he examined my hand and wrist. He gave the green light. "Looks good," he said. "If you have any difficulty, come and find me. I'll see what I can do. You haven't had any problems moving your hand, have you?"

"Well," I said quietly. "Not too much. The potions I'm taking can often have an effect on movement, can't they?"

He looked impressed. "Studying to become a Healer?"

"Yes."

"I wish you luck on the exam next week, then."

Hermione beamed proudly. Blaise had already gone back to the Leaky Cauldron, where he was staying. She sighed. "I'm glad you're okay," she said. "You have no idea how worried I was when Maria told us that you'd had a serious splinch."

"Yeah."

"Draco, do you think we could visit your father?" she asked suddenly.

I froze. "What?"

She looked guilty. "I heard he was pretty badly hurt. Splinching is one thing, but you can't fix a hole in the abdomen quite as easily…"

"I know," I snapped.

She bit her lip. "I forgot about Ashley," she said. "I'm sorry…"

I said nothing.

"I want your father's approval," she continued. "I…want him to accept me as…"

"As?"

She mumbled, "As, as your girlfriend…"

I smiled. "That's an excellent idea. But, it's impossible. He won't even acknowledge me as his son."

"Still, let's at least check up on him," she argued. "I'm a little worried. He is your father, after all."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "He is my father."

Hermione won. We stood outside the door to his room a few minutes later. I gulped, tightened my fist, and raised it to knock. A healer opened the door. I jumped back with a small "Merlin's beard!"

The Healer looked at us inquisitively. "Lucius Malfoy's son?" he asked.

I gulped. "Um, that's right."

She smiled sadly. "You must be here to see him. I'm sorry, but I can't let anyone else in, yet. Only two guests at a time, you see. Your mother and sister are in there, so you'll have to wait."

I felt numb once more. "She isn't my mother," I said. "And the girl is only my half-sister."

The Hearer looked confused. "Is that so? Well, please come back some other time. You wouldn't get to speak with him, anyway; he's still unconscious."

Hermione stepped forward. "Really? How is he?"

"He should be fine. He's healing nicely, but he hasn't woken up since we did the emergency Healing procedures. This is common, though. If you'll excuse me,"

"What happened?" I cut in as she tried to leave.

She blinked. "Pardon?"

"What made that…hole?" I asked. "Was it magic? What kind of curse was it?"

The Healer sighed. "Honestly," she said, "We aren't too sure. There isn't any trace of magical residue in the wound. We're considering hiring an investigation team. This all seems a bit too fishy…"

She left Hermione and I alone once again. "Well, let's go," she said quietly, and grabbed my hand. As we walked she asked, "But what _do_ you want for your birthday?"

I grinned. "Do I need anything else?"

She looked surprised, but then she smiled, and our fingers entwined.

D~M~101~W's

When I woke up, I felt powerful. It was as if something heavy had been lifted from my shoulders, and I almost danced around my room in elation. I was a year older. That meant I was free.

The day passed quickly. I received a few owls from people back at Hogwarts but didn't read them – I was too busy rejoicing my freedom. It seemed as if I waited all day for dinner to come. When it finally did, I left immediately.

Hermione and Blaise were waiting for me outside the restaurant, the latter tapping his foot impatiently. "How bloody slow is he?" the ebony-skinned boy complained loudly. "It's his bloody birthday – you'd think he'd show up early!"

Hermione hit his arm, ignoring his cry of pain. "Grow up! He'll be here soon."

They finally saw me. "Hullo," I said. "I'm in a good mood, so I won't hex you, Blaise."

Blaise smiled hugely. "Is that so? My dear, kind, wonderful friend! I knew you were the one from the moment I saw you!"

"You're creeping me out."

He frowned abruptly. "I'm only expressing my love for our friendship."

Hermione laughed at us and we went inside. She insisted on ordering for me, so I let her, and out of the kitchen came three pasta dishes I had never seen.

"Muggle food?" I murmured to Blaise.

He nodded. "Muggle food."

Hermione overheard us. "It isn't as if you're going to die eating it," she said. "It's delicious, try some."

Indeed it was. We ate and talked and laughed and joked. A salad joined the meal at some point, and I pointed to it. "Are those olives?"

"You've never had olives in salad before?"

"I have," I said. "I was just surprised. Mine's the only one."

Blaise took a sip of water. "I told Hermione that you liked them, and she thought it was disgusting, but she asked for them in your salad anyway."

"I never said it was disgusting!" she shrieked.

I laughed. "Thanks," I said. "This is the first time in a while anyone has done something like this for me." I picked up my fork, reached out, tapped it down on the plate and brought it back to my mouth. I only got the metallic taste of the utensil. I frowned.

"Um, mate," said Blaise, "You missed the salad."

I stared at my plate. "Oh," I said. "Ha ha, that's weird. Don't mid me, go ahead and eat, yourselves."

Blaise turned to Hermione and shrugged exaggeratedly. They began talking about something, but I wasn't paying attention. I tried again. A clink met my ears, and the salad doubled before reverting back to one dish. My fork missed the salad completely. I tried a third time. I missed. Determined and frustrated, I tried once more, but suddenly my fingers lost their grip, my hand and wrist went completely numb, and the fork slipped through my iron grasp like sand through a sieve. It clattered to the table top.

They stopped talking.

I stared at the fork.

"Draco?"

I stared.

"What's wrong?"

I stood abruptly. "Bathroom," I said, and dashed away from the table. I ignored them as they called after me. I shut the door to the restroom quickly and reached into my pocket to lock it with my wand. My fingers closed around the wood and I withdrew it quickly. It happened again – my hand went numb, my fingers tingled, and for one moment I couldn't tell I had a hand at all.

My wand fell, and I made a grab for it but missed entirely. Luckily, it didn't break when it hit the tiled floor. Eyes fixed on it, I took a breath and reached down, extending my fingers towards it. They touched the wood, but I felt nothing. I tried moving them.

Nothing.

I slid onto my knees. It was as if something was holding my hand back, constricting all my fingers into one giant mess without bones or muscles. I couldn't move. "Come on," I whispered. Nothing. "Work!" Nothing. "MOVE!"

I gripped the wand. My breathing was heavy and filled the otherwise silent space. My eyes were fixed on my hand, which now tightly gripped my wand. I put it in my pocket. I held my hand in front of my face. I made a fist and then flexed my fingers out.

I could feel.

I could move.

The tingling sensation of numbness subsided. The thin white scar around my wrist taunted me. Someone knocked on the door.

"Draco?"

I said nothing.

"Mate, are you in there? Are you okay? Draco, answer me."

He rattled the handle, but my back blocked the door from opening.

"Draco, are you here? What's wrong? You're acting strange! What's wrong?"

I didn't answer him.

I couldn't answer him.

**Summer vacation for some. I'll have more time to write, so… yeah. Review :D**


	24. Control

**I have a question to ask all my lovely readers. Please stick around for the A/N at the end of the chapter. I still don't own Harry or his magical friends.**

_#24 – Control_

_ What can I say to get this through your heads? YOU MUST HAVE CONTROL OVER YOURSELF._

_ Your body, heart, emotions. Everything must be watched carefully. If you take one step down a dangerous path, you will fall off the edge of a cliff. Never allow this woman to worm her way into your heart._

_ There is an old saying, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer". I say, wherever your enemies are, stay the hell away from them. Nothing good comes from tangling yourself in a mess that you can't get out of._

_ Dear reader, do not explore uncharted waters. Do not get caught. Remember, the reality of what you are doing is harsh but true: you are in this for the sex. Because really, why are you reading this book if you want a nice, stable relationship? Don't lose sight of what you set out to do._

_ Control yourself. If you feel yourself falling, cancel it right away. Get away from the woman._

_ She's probably a nine-tailed fox*._

"What happened?"

"I really needed to go."

"To the bathroom?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say so? You scared Hermione half to death!"

I smirked at Blaise. "I'm good at scaring people, aren't I?"

He frowned. "You're okay, right?"

I held up my right hand and waved it nonchalantly. "Of course."

I was not okay. I didn't know what was happening. Blaise bought it. "Well, well, Mister Malfoy, why don't you go finish your meal?"

Hermione didn't ask any questions when I got back. She was clearly worried, but she smiled and held out a plate that had a cupcake on it. "I ordered it while you were gone," she said, beaming. "Happy Birthday."

I held her hand.

Blaise went back to the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione and I dropped him off and walked the streets of Diagon Alley, hands entwined. She spoke first. "Draco?"

"Hm?"

"I'm not sure if I've ever told you," she said. "Thank you."

It was dark, evening, and I paused under a streetlamp to face her. No one was in sight. "Thank me for what?"

She squeezed my hand. "Thank you for not getting hurt too badly."

I felt my conscious freeze.

"I'm really glad that nothing too serious happened to you. I'm not sure…what I would do if you never recovered."

I felt wrong again. All at once, I felt I needed to get away, so she wouldn't see though me. I tried to ungrasp her hand, but it happened again – my muscles refused to obey my will. My hand ceased to exist, as if it were paralyzed.

Hermione kept talking, but I couldn't pay attention to any of it. Then, all of a sudden, the pain hit me. It wasn't overwhelming, not at all, but it did sting. What did this mean? I couldn't move my hand or feel it, but I could feel _this_? I had to make it move. I had to make it move.

And it did. I yanked Hermione roughly, and she shrieked in surprise, tripping over her cloak as I walked briskly up the street.

"What?" she asked. "What?"

As I walked, I thought. What if my hand stopped moving entirely one day? Panic. Reality. Denial. Anger.

"Hermione," I growled as I walked, "I need you to do something for me."

Bewildered, she said, "What is it?"

"My Healer final exams are a week from now. Don't see me until then, or I won't be able to study." It was a lie.

"O-okay," she said. "Good. Studying is wonderful. I wish you the best of luck. But, Draco, where are we going?"

I didn't know where we were going. So, I stopped. "Where do you want to go?" I asked her.

Her confusion only grew. "It's your birthday. You decide."

"I just want to be with you," I blurted out.

I hadn't meant anything special or provocative by it, but Hermione flushed a deep shade of magenta and started to bubble speech inarticulately. "B-be, be with me? Ha, ha ha, ha! What do you – no, did you even mean? – I-I, anyways-!"

I leaned in suddenly to kiss her, and she shut her eyes on instinct. I paused, inches away from her lips, and stared at her face. I stared and stared, but did not kiss her. Eventually, an eye popped open. Then another.

She frowned. "Are you going to kiss me or stare at me?"

"Stare," I replied.

The frown deepened. "I didn't piss you off, did I?" she asked.

"No."

"You know, Draco, as long as it was brought up, in regards to, um… se- ah, you know…"

I listened, and did not move. Our faces were still inches apart.

"I – I was raised by rather conservative parents, and I was taught to not…get up to that kind of…" She blushed. I could tell she was having a hard time. There was something about seeing Hermione with nothing to say that I really liked, so, to make it harder for her, I leaned in another inch. She gulped, staring at my lips, and continued. "I wouldn't mind, I mean, if it was with you, but I – So, so I, ah, have my own philosophy with it, though, and that is that…"

I leaned in one more inch.

"…that I not sleep with anyone…"

Our lips met.

"…until I'm engaged…"

We kissed and kissed, until our lips were swollen, and our heads were light, and our lungs deprived of air. And then, for good measure, I kissed her once more before she apparated off to my mother's mansion, leaving me alone.

I stared at the empty space she had been in seconds before. "I'm sorry," I whispered into the cooling air. "I guess I can't do more than kiss you."

After all, I couldn't marry her.

Not now.

D~M~101~W's

My hand was better, for the whole. I stopped taking the medicine completely, and the strange symptoms I had vanished. My reason for sending Hermione away for a week wasn't so I could study, but so that she wouldn't notice. Blaise owled me with the news that he was going to stay for my father's wedding and then return to Hogwarts.

I told him to keep Hermione company.

The whole week passed, and I started to wonder if I had overreacted because of my hand – it had been just a little bit of stiffness, numbness, and immobile behavior, but now it acted as it usually did. Like a hand.

And now, the day I had waited for. My Healing finals. They would be at ten. It was eight when I met my mother and she asked me to go to the hospital to check on my father.

"I was going to go," she explained, "But Maria asked me to babysit Ursula, and Hermione is busy studying in her spare time, so I want you to go."

"Why bother?" I mumbled. "We should just cut ties with him."

Narcissa smiled sadly at me. "Draco, dear boy, just go this once. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

And I went, just because I saw the sad gleam in her eyes. She still loved my father. Even if she had been trapped in a loveless marriage with him, she had still loved him. Even though he had abused her physically, emotionally, and mentally, she still loved him. Even though he had cheated on her, she still cared.

I would go, even if it was just so she was happy.

"I haven't seen you since you saved Lucius's life," said Maria when I met her outside the hospital room.

I tried civility. "I've been busy."

"I heard it was your birthday. You're an adult, now. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Are you here to see Lucius? Come in."

He was awake. Lying on his back, unmoving, staring straight up at the ceiling. Maria hesitated at the mouth of the room.

"He's healing slowly," she said. "He isn't mute, anymore, but he only talks when he really needs to. It's hard for him."

She excused herself, and I had no choice but to walk up to the bed and sit in the chair next to it. His cold eyes snapped to my face.

"Mum sent me," I said. "Don't think I'm here because I want to be."

He stayed silent, and looked back to the ceiling.

"You know," I whispered, unsure of what was about to come out of my mouth, "I'm taking my Healing Final in two hours. I guess I never thanked you for putting me into that class."

He avoided thanking him even now. He wasn't even sure if the bastard was listening to him.

"I wanted to be a Healer because of what happened to Ashley," I said. "Did you know that?"

Whether or not he knew, the Malfoy Patriarch showed no signs of it.

"When I found her, just before she died," I continued, "She had a hole in her stomach, just like you. I saved you. I know about healing, now. I didn't then. I never want to let another person die in front of me when I know I can save them. I think, I would have been able to save her."

The Malfoy father wheezed suddenly, and Draco snapped to attention as he tried to form words. "You," he hissed with great difficulty, "You…not. She…would've d-" he sputtered, coughed, and finished. "…anyway…"

_You couldn't have saved her. She would have died, anyway._

I stood, and without another word, headed toward the door.

"Wait-!" he wheezed after me. I waited, not turning back to face him. He coughed. "Attacker…don't remember…any of it."

I left without looking back. On my way out of St. Mungo's, I stopped the Healer in charge of my father. "Check him for signs of magical memory erase," I said. "And the imperious curse, just to be on the safe side."

The Healer smiled. "You care for your father a lot, don't you?"

I stayed silent.

"How's your hand? Still having stiffness problems?"

"It went away after I stopped taking the medicine completely. I have a question," I said.

The Healer said, "Shoot."

Nervousness prickled the hairs on the back of my neck. "There was a bit of a sharp pain the other day."

"Oh, that?" The Healer laughed. "Well, if you'd stopped taking the medicine completely, of course it'll hurt a little. Endure it for a week or so, your wrist should be fully healed by then.

As I left to take my Healer Final, I didn't mention to him that the pain had begun before I stopped taking the medicine.

I thought of Hermione, and her words the week before. I had the faint notion that she was hinting that she wanted to be engaged someday. There was a small, nervous twitch in my hand, and I knew that I had let this go on too long.

It had gone too far.

*** A nine-tailed fox, according to legend, is a demon disguised as a human woman, who eats the livers of men after seducing them.  
**

**This story, shockingly, is coming to a close. I will not have 101 chapters. I'm much too lazy. Please review! I greatly appreciate it!**

**Now, for that A/N I mentioned:**

**Would anyone be interested in reading my original works? As much as I love fanfiction, I actually spend more time writing my own stories. Here are the summaries for three of the novels I am working on. PLEASE GO TO MY PROFILE TO VOTE ON WHICH, IF ANY, YOU WOULD LIKE TO READ. The majority will be posted on fanfiction's sister site, fictionpress.**

_Death Row_

Lilith Glass had always hated criminals. Especially the ones in jail. They were dirty, rude, uncultured, profane, and over all, evil. She had always thought that, by joining Adam's agents, she would catch these people and turn them over to the law. What she never anticipated was for the law to turn one over to her as her bodyguard, fresh from Death Row.

"Brutal way to die, isn't it?"

_In the Hall of the Mountain King_

Jo, an ugly girl, is transported by magical means to another world. There, she hears stories about the kind, faithful, and gracious Mountain King. The Mountain King turns out to be a cruel, unkind, and sadistic Wizard who is blind.

"I never needed your love. I needed your eyes."

_My Wife is 17_

Link had been tricked into marrying his childhood friend, Alma. Neither mind the loveless marriage too much – he's busy with getting a degree in nursing, and she's busy with high school. Then she gets sick, and Link finally gets a job in a hospital. The problem? His seventeen year-old wife is his first patient.

"You hate me. But, I promised to stay with you, didn't I? Until death do us part."

**Thank you for your consideration : )**


End file.
